A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 


A  BIT  OF 

A  FOOL 


BY 


SIR  ROBERT  PEKL,  Bart. 


NEW  YORK 
R.  F.  FENNO  &  COMPANY 

J 12  -Pll^n  AV^NUIE^ 


Copyright,  1897 

BY 

R.  F.  FENNO  &  COMPANY 


'4 


OF  THK  X  [y       yi 


UNIVERSITY 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 


CHAPTER    I. 


I  WAS  at  school  at  Winchester  and  fourteen 
years  old  when  my  mother  died.  At  that  age 
I  had  not  any  deeper  feelings  than  the  average 
boy,  and  I  know  that  when  the  first  grief,  which 
is  one  of  the  simplest  of  human  emotions,  had 
passed  away,  I  felt  a  certain  sense — I  will  not 
say  of  relief,  but  of  a  removal  of  constraint,  of 
greater  freedom.  I  had  no  great  compunction 
about  annoying  my  father.  When  I  did  any  of 
the  usual  evil  things  that  boys  do,  he  would  get 
angry,  and  I,  in  consequence,  defiant.  He  was 
a  man,  and  it  always  seemed  a  fair  stand-up 
fight.  But  with  my  mother  it  was  different. 
My  wrong-doings  provoked  no  hardness  from 


6  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

her,  but  rather  a  tenderness.  They  caused  her 
sorrow,  and  I  could  see  it,  so  that  with  the  mo- 
mentary susceptibiUty  of  youth,  I  regretted  what 
I  had  done,  and  endeavoured  in  future  to  avoid 
causing  her  pain.  This  shows  that  I  was  al- 
ways sensitive  in  the  matter  of  women. 

After  my  mother's  death  the  only  feminine 
influence  remaining,  which  touched  me  directly, 
was  my  sister's  :  she  was  fifteen  months  younger 
than  I,  and  as  she  was  my  only  sister,  and  I 
her  only  brother,  we  were  close  companions. 
But  at  the  time  of  which  I  speak  she  was  not 
of  an  age  to  take  seriously  the  follies  of  an  ad- 
mired brother,  but  rather  to  see  in  them 
evidences  of  the  superiority  of  sex,  making  her 
regret  that  she  was  a  woman.  It  took  a  few 
more  years  yet  to  make  her  realize  her  ad- 
vantage in  this  respect.' 

Winifred  had  a  governess  :  a  very  good- 
looking  lady,  about  twenty-three,  as  I  judge, 
with  a  pale,  calm  face,  grey  eyes,  and  fine 
fluffy  hair,  blonde-cendree,  was  Miss  Tennant. 
A  very  proper,  unimpassi.oned  person,  with 
irreproachable    manners.     At    legist,    ihdX   was 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  7 

her  apparent  character — but,  although  during 
the  hoHdays  I  saw  much  of  her,  I  was  never 
quite  able  to  make  up  my  mind  about  her. 
There  was  something  behind  her  habitual 
restraint  which  I  was  unable  to  decipher. 
Every  one  of  my  mother's  friends  had  nothing 
but  praise  to  say  of  her,  and  she  was  re- 
garded as  a  perfect  model  of  propriety.  Wini- 
fred was  the  only  one  who  did  not  quite  admire 
her. 

"  What  is  it  you  don't  like  in  Miss  Tennant, 
Winnie?"  I  asked  one  day. 

"  I  don't  know, "  my  sister  replied,  "  but 
sometimes  she  looks  at  me.  " 

'T  don't  see  much  harm  in  that. " 

"  Pr'aps  not,  "—she  shuddered  a  little—"  but 
its  a  funny  look,  and  then  suddenly  she  kisses 
me  on  the  mouth,  and  makes  me  feel — ugh! " 
She  shook  her  head  and  drew  in  her  chin  as  she 
said  this. 

"I  shouldn't  mind  that." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  although  I  didn't  tell 
Winifred,  it  was  just  what  Miss  Tennant  did 
to  me,  when  we  were  alone,  as  sometimes  hap- 


n 


8  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOi: 

pened.  As  a  boy,  I  did  not  care  about  being 
kissed  by  women  ;  I  liked  to  kiss  a  girl  for  fun, 
but  to  be  kissed  by  a  grown-up  woman  an- 
noyed me.  I  thought  it  derogatory  to  my 
years.  But  most  women  kissed  me  on  the 
cheek  or  forehead.  Miss  Tennant  was  different; 
she  kissed  me  full  on  the  mouth,  and  made  a 
kind  of  a  shiver  go  through  me.  I  think  I 
liked  it;  I  know  I  never  resisted.  I  don't  think 
I  had  the  power. 

After  the  death  of  my  mother  Miss  Tennant's 
manner  changed.  She  never  kissed  me  again, 
and  began  to  assume  an  air  of  authority  over 
me.  Winifred  found  it  the  same.  I  now  think 
it  probable  that  she  was  forming  the  design  of 
becoming  the  second  Mrs.  Manners. 

But  my  father  was  not  the  man  to  marry 
again  in  a  hurry,  and  if  he  had  some  thought 
of  doing  so,  it  would  not  have  been  Miss  Ten- 
nant that  he  would  have  chosen.  He  was  a 
busy,  careful,  austere,  religious,  unimpassioned 
man,  with  an  enormous  sense  of  family  pride 
and  social  position.  He  had  some  good  reason 
to  be  proud  of  his  relationships  by  blood  and 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  9 

marriage,  for  our  family  Table  of  Affinities 
scarcely  included  a  name  which  was  not  to  be 
found  in  Debret,  and  had  he  chosen  a  second 
wife,  she  would  have  been  selected,  I  am  sure, 
from  some  family  having  a  name  to  which  no 
reasonably  near  relationship  with  us  could  be 
traced.  I  think  it  was  one  of  his  ambitions  to 
form  an  alliance  with  the  entire  aristocracy  of 
England,  and  if  he  had  had  enough  children  he 
might  have  done  so,  for  he  was  rich,  and  being 
also  a  careful  man — careful  almost  to  meanness 
in  his  household — he  was  continually  adding  to 
his  fortune. 

I  knew  we  were  rich  because  people  said  so, 
and  on  occasions  a  fine  display  of  profusion 
was  made  at  home  when  some  important 
function  took  place.  But  as  a  rule  this  was  not 
the  case,  and  we  lived  most  simply.  Of  course 
there  was  enough  of  everything,  but  it  rep- 
resented an  income  of  from  two  to  three 
thousand  a  year  rather  than  one  of  from  twenty 
to  thirty  thousand,  and  I  know  that  I  was  very 
much  limited  in  the  matter  of  pocket-money. 

"You  have  everything  that  is  necessary  and 


10  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

becoming  your  position, "  my  father  used  to  say 
when  I  wanted  something  more  than  usual  ; 
and  the  only  way  of  getting  it  was  through  my 
mother,  who  gave  it  to  me  out  of  her  own 
pocket.  But  after  her  death  I  had  no  one  to 
turn  to,  and  was  often  greatly  chagrined  to  find 
myself  unable  to  gratify  the  small  extravagances 
that  are  possible  at  school,  and  that  other  boys, 
with  fathers  not  so  rich,  but  more  generous, 
were  able  to  afford.  My  cousin  Percy  Manners 
Wynne,  to  give  him  his  full  name,  who  was  also 
at  Winchester,  had  the  knack  of  causing  me 
almost  unbearable  mortification  by  his  remarks. 
He  knew  all  about  us,  as  he  was  very  intimate. 
He  was  the  son  of  my  father's  sister  who  un- 
fortunately had  married  none  too  well,  from  the 
point  of  view  of  fortune,  and  was  the  next  heir 
after  myself  to  the  entailed  property.  He 
passed  for  being  a  very  good  boy,  and  was  a 
great  favourite  with  my  father,  who  paid  for 
his  education  at  Winchester  in  order  to  relieve 
my  aunt,  who  was  left  a  widow,  of  that  burden. 
I  suppose  Percy  was  a  good  boy.  I  never  re- 
member him  doing  anything  wrong  himself,  but, 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  ii 

unintentionally  or  not,  he  had  a  way  of  making 
suggestions  of  a  very  mischievous  nature  to 
others.  But  of  course,  as  he  said,  he  was  not  to 
blame  if  other  fellows  were  stupid  enough  to 
follow  suggestions  which  were  never  meant  to 
be  taken  seriously. 

"Why  don't  you  get  so-and-so,  Horace?"  he 
would  say. 

"  Why  don't  you  ?  "  I  would  reply  evasively. 

"  That's  different  :  I  can't  afford  it,  you  know; 
my  mother  is  so  badly  off.     But  you  can. " 

"  No,  I  can't  :  I  haven't  got  the  money." 

"  O  nonsense  !  your  governor  will  buy  it  for 
you  if  you  ask." 

"  I  don't  think  he  will."  I  did  not  think  :  I 
knew.    And  Percy  knew  too. 

"Why  not?    He's  so  rich." 

"  It's  no  good  my  asking.  He  refused  me  the 
last  time, "  I  say  with  annoyance. 

"  Shall  I  ask  him  for  you  ? "  asks  Percy 
sweetly. 

"  What's  the  good  of  that  ?  "  I  reply,  rather 
sharply,  for  I  feel  that  it  is  quite  possible  that 
my  father  would  give  way  to  Percy,  and  am 


f  UNIVERSITx: 


12  A  BIX  OE  A  FOOL 

consequently  angry. 

"  Oh,  all  right,  but  lots  of  other  chaps  have 
one,  and  I  didn't  think  you'd  like  to  go  without. 
I  can't  help  myself.  There's  Wilkinson, " — 
seeing  another  fellow  passing — "  I  say  Wilkin- 
son, where  did  you  get  your — ?"  (whatever  it 
was). 

"  At  old  Smith's  in  the  town." 

"  How  much  did  it  cost  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  quite  sure,"  Wilkinson  says.  "  I 
didn't  pay  for  it.  Smith  let  me  have  it  on  tick, 
and  I  shall  try  to  get  the  mater  to  stand  it." 

'"  Oh  ! "  Percy  says,  and  then  turning  to  me, 
"You  see,  Wilkinson's  mother  is  rich,  and 
Smith  knows  that.  But  of  course  you  musn't 
do  that,  Horace,  without  getting  the  governor's 
approval.  It  wouldn't  do.  But  it  does  seem 
a  pity." 

The  natural  consequence  of  this  is  that  I 
promptly  go  to  Smith's  and  get  it  for  credit, 
and  in  the  end  of  course  the  bill  is  sent  in  to  my 
father,  and  there  is  a  row,  and  Percy,  with  re- 
luctance and  only  under  strong  pressure,  admits 
that  he  advised  me  not  to  do  it,  although  we 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  13 

did  discuss  the  question  of  how  much  we  should 
have  Hked  to  have  had  one  had  we  been  able  to 
afford  it.  And  then  after  rating  me  severely, 
my  father  gives  one — a  better  one — to  Percy. 

This  is  only  an  example  of  what  occurred 
somewhat  frequently.  I  didn't  like  it,  and  I  felt 
somehow  that  Percy  had  bested  me — although  I 
had  to  admit  candidly  that  there  was  nothing 
m  his  conduct  to  which  I  could  take  exception, 
and  in  those  occasional  moments  of  honest 
self-criticism,  which  come  even  to  boys,  I  was 
forced  to  confess  that  my  cousin  had  only  ob- 
tained the  reward  of  virtue. 

There  is  only  one  other  incident  in  my  school- 
life  which  I  need  recount,  as  it  led  to  the  serious 
consequence  of  my  leaving  school,  and  being 
sent  for  the  year  before  going  up  to  Oxford  to 
a  private  tutor. 

I  have  said  that  I  was  always  susceptible  to 
the  influence  of  women,  and,  unlike  many  boys, 
I  was  fond  of  girls. 

In  going  about  the  town  we  met,  naturally, 
many  girls  in  the  streets.  But  there  was  one 
that  I  was  led  to  notice  particularly,  partly  be- 


14  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

cause  I  saw  her  often,  and  partly  because  there 
was  something  about  her  that  attracted  me. 
She  was  a  very  pretty  dark  girl  about  sixteen 
— I  was  seventeen  then — very  demure,  quiet, 
and  neatly  dressed,  the  daughter  of  a  small 
tradesman.  I  first  noticed  that  she  looked  up 
shyly  from  under  her  eye-lashes  when  I  passed, 
and  this  led  me  first  to  stare  at  her,  and  then 
to  smile  in  silent  recognition  when  we  passed, 
which  was  answered  on  her  part  by  a  blushing 
smile,  a  hanging  of  the  head,  and  a  quickening 
step.  She  really  looked  so  simple,  and  so 
modest,  yet  so  pretty,  that,  although  I  looked 
forward  to  the  encounter,  which  made  my  heart 
beat  more  quickly  and  my  skin  to  be  affected 
by  a  creeping,  tingling  sensation,  I  should 
never  have  dreamed  of  seeking  to  become  closer 
acquainted. 

At  that  time  I  had  a  passion  for  a  special  kind 
of  gingerbread  made  by  an  old  woman  who  kept 
a  small  shop,  and  I  went  there  for  my  favourite 
delicacy  nearly  every  day. 

One  day,  to  my  surprise,  the  old  lady  gave 
me  a  letter  and  asked  if  I  thought  it  was  meant 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  15 

for  me.     The  envelope  was  addressed  : — 

"  For  the  nice,  good-looking,  fair  boy  who 
comes  to  buy  gingerbread." 

I  said  that  it  was  very  likely,  and  put  the 
letter  in  my  pocket  with  an  inward  trembling, 
and  then  bought  twice  the  quantity  of  sweet- 
meat from  the  old  woman. 

Outside  I  quickly  opened  the  letter,  and,  with 
a  surging  through  my  veins,  read — 

"  I  love  you.  I  am  the  dark  girl  you  smile 
at.  I  know  you  so  well  that  I  must  speak  to 
you.     Can  you  meet  me  to-night    at  half-past 

seven  at 

"  Your  loving    Nki.i.ie5  SawyBR. 

"P.  S. — I  want  to  kiss  you.  I  dream  of  you 
every  night,     xxxxxxxxx  x." 

Of  course  I  knew  what  the  crosses  meant. 
This  letter  set  my  mind  on  fire,  and  I  deter- 
mined to  carry  out  the  meeting  at  all  risks. 
The  place  chosen  was  a  quiet  spot  at  the  further 
end  of  the  town.  As  I  was  in  the  sixth  form 
I  was  not  expected  to  put  in  an  appearance  in 
the  class-room  in  the  evening,  but  I  was  sup- 
posed to  be  preparing  work  for  the  next  day  in 


i6  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

my  study.  To  get  out  of  the  school  was  not  a 
difficult  matter:  there  was  a  well-known  way, 
well  known  to  the  boys. 

It  was  necessary  to  have  someone  to  cover 
my  absence  in  case  of  accidents,  and  I  decided 
that  I  would  confide  in  my  cousin  Wynne.  He 
advised  me  not  to  go,  but,  seeing  I  was  de- 
termined, promised  to  do  what  was  necessary 
in  the  way  of  accounting  for  my  absence  if  re- 
quired. 

So  I  went.  I  found  that  my  inamorata, 
Nellie  Sawyer,  however  demure  she  might  look 
in  the  street  in  public,  was  by  no  means  so  shy 
when  by  herself  in  a  quiet  spot,  and  the  inter- 
view fully  came  up  to  my  expectations,  and 
more. 

I  got  back  into  school  safely  without  being 
discovered,  and,  emboldened  by  this  success  I 
planned  and  carried  out  several  other  meet- 
ings. 

But  the  affair  ended  abruptly.  One  day  I 
was  sent  for  by  my  house-master,  and  by  him 
conducted  to  the  head-master.     There  I  found 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  17 

also  a  man  who  proved  to  be  Sawyer,  the  girl's 
father. 

I  need  say  little  more.  I  was  punished  pri- 
vately in  the  usual  way,  and  at  the  end  of  the 
term  I  left  school.  No  one  else  in  the  school 
knew  anything  about  it.  My  father  was  so 
angry  with  me  that  he  declined  to  have  me 
home  for  the  holidays,  and  I  spent  a  much 
jollier  time  with  some  relations,  the  only  thing 
I  missed  being  my  sister  Winnie,  who  thought 
the  whole  matter  great  fun,  though  she  did  not 
dare  to  say  anything. 

I  was  never  able  to  discover  how  this  affair 
was  found  out,  or  who  it  was  told  the  girl's 
father.  Percy  declared  that  he  had  said  noth- 
ing, and  indeed  it  appeared  from  what  was  said 
that  it  was  Sawyer  who  first  came  to  the  head- 
master about  it.  I  supposed  that  someone  of 
her  family  had  seen  us  together.  And  yet  it 
was  a  mystery  how  her  father  should  have 
known  my  name,  as  he  did,  for  I  had  never  told 
my  surname  to  Nelly,  and  there  were  two  other 
Horaces  at  the  school. 


CHAPTER  ir. 

ShortIvY  after  this  I  was  sent  to  a  private 
tutor  to  prepare  for  the  University.  I  was  ac- 
counted a  clever  boy  at  school,  and,  however 
that  may  be,  I  know  that  I  had  no  difficulty  in 
keepings  abreast  of  the  fellows  of  my  own  age 
with  the  smallest  trouble  to  myself.  I  should 
probably  have  found  it  easy  to  matriculate  and 
pass  "smalls"  with  the  education  I  then  had. 
But  my  father  was  a  brilliant  man,  having 
taken  every  possible  honour  and  prize  at  the 
University,  and  my  mother  was  a  highly  intel- 
lectual woman,  although  she  had  no  certificates 
to  show  for  it,  as  Girton  and  its  like  were  not  in 
existence  in  her  day.  It  was  therefore  taken  for 
granted  that  I  also  was  to  have  a  brilliant  intel- 
lectual career,  and  the  idea  of  simply  taking  my 
degree  never  entered  my  father's  head.     I  was 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  19 

to  take  a  scholarship  in  the  first  place,  and  after 
that  to  take  as  many  honours  as  possible  with 
added  trifles  such  as  the  "Craven" ;  and  even  the 
"Newdigate"  was  designed  for  me,  as  my 
mother  was  a  poetess — privately  published — of 
the  Mrs.  Browning-Hemans  order,  religio-in- 
tellectual. 

The  private  tutor,  vulgarly  and  far  more  cor- 
rectly called  a  "  Crammer,"  had  an  establish- 
ment a  little  way  out  west  of  London.  My 
father  had  exercised  considerable  care  in  the 
selection,  and  striking  a  balance  between  suc- 
cessful results  and  fatherly  supervision,  had 
selected  Mr.  Jones,  D.C.L.  (Duthie),  M.A., 
B.Sc.  (Lond.),  from  a  long  list  of  others  whose 
prospectuses  were  so  much  alike  in  unvarying 
success  and  care  of  the  pupils'  morals  as  to 
make  the  final  choice  a  matter  of  difficulty. 

This  choice  was  somewhat  influenced  by  a 
certain  incident.  I  knew  a  fellow  named 
Scovell  whose  people  were  neighbours  of  ours, 
They  were  very  well  off,  and  the  family,  al- 
though not  at  present  aristocratic,  was  old  and 
honourable.      My    father,     therefore,    had    no 


i' 


20  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

objection  to  our  acquaintance.  Scovell  was 
one  of  the  most  charming,  light-hearted  fellows 
I  ever  met:  he  uttered  and  honestly  believed 
the  most  airy  paradoxes  as  regards  life.  It  is 
something  to  say  that  he  lived  up  to  his 
opinions.  Perhaps  that  is  hardly  the  way  it 
should  be  put,  as  it  implies  an  effort  to  conform 
to  a  moral  code.  It  was  not  so  with  him  :  he 
lived  his  natural  life,  and  his  curious  ethical 
perversions  were  the  result  of  his  peculiar  con- 
ception of  things.  The  closest  comparison  I 
can  make  is  that  of  language  and  grammar. 
Language  is  not  formed  on  grammar,  but  gram- 
mar deduced  from  language.  So  it  was  with 
Egbert  Scovell.  Had  he  lived  in  an  ancient 
day  he  would  have  been  an  Epicurean.  But 
the  adjective  is  now  dead  or  misused. 

Scovell  was  certainly  "sweet"  on  Winifred, 
and  she  on  him.  Had  my  father  perceived  this, 
he  would  surely  have  put  a  stop  to  it,  as  he  had 
other  designs  for  her. 

I  told  Scovell  so  once. 

"Then  we  must  seriously  fall  in  love,"  he 
said.     "  If  your  governor    had  any    sense  he 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  21 

would  encourage  it,  and  we  should  get  sick  of 
each  other  in  the  end.  But  meanwhile  it 
would  be  much  better  fun  all  round.  He  ought 
to  know  that  no  self-respecting  girl  would 
stifle  her  first  love  by  marrying  it.  Besides,  if 
I  were  going  to  marry  your  sister,  I  couldn't 
afford  to  be  so  friendly  with  you.  It  is  safer  to 
marry  someone  you  don't  know  anything 
about." 

Scovell  was  at  Jones's  cramming  for  the 
University  also.  He,  my  cousin  Wynne,  and  I 
were  talking  about  it  one  day. 

"  Jones'  is  all  right,"  Scovell  said.  "  No  fel- 
low need  do  a  stroke  of  work  unless  he  pleases, 
and  as  for  supervision,  there  isn't  any.  That's 
how  Crammers  are  so  successful.  No  chap 
who  isn't  encased  in  the  two  tables  of  stone  and 
a  perfect  glutton  for  work  ever  goes  up  for  ex- 
amination. The  rest  are  '  not  yet  advanced 
enough'  for  so  long  that  their  parents  take 
them  away,  as  they  pass  the  age  limit." 

And  because,  I  suppose,  he  saw  I  should  like 
to  know  a  nice  fellow  like  Scovell  when  I  got 
there,   my  cousin  told  my  father    that  he  had 


22  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

heard  Jones'  very  well  spoken  of.     I  sincerely 
believe  that  settled  the  decision. 

I  found  Jones  to  have  all  the  merits  that 
Scovell  assigned.  I  shall  not  trouble  to  describe 
my  life  there.  I  can  only  say  that  I  have  tried 
to  imagine  a*  worse  place  to  which  to  send  a 
boy  of  seventeen,  but  have  failed.  A  re- 
formatory school  does  not  meet  the  case.  There 
was  no  need  to  do  anything  unless  one  chose. 
If  one  did  not  voluntarily  "  sweat,"  the  tutors 
at  once  perceived  that  the  case  was  hopeless 
and  took  no  further  trouble.  The  supervision 
was  stated  to  be  both  religious  and  moral.  A 
guinea  a  year  was  charged  for  a  seat  in  church. 
At  eleven  o'clock  on  Sunday  morning  Jones 
himself  perambulated  once  through  the  great 
rambling  old  house  in  which  we  lived,  and  ob- 
serving no  one  in  the  rooms,  was  satisfied  that 
we  w^ere  attending  our  spiritual  devotions.  He 
did  not  look  under  the  beds  or  tables,  nor  ap- 
parently notice  that  a  noisy  procession  of  boys 
was  preceding  him  up  the  front  stairs  down  the 
back  stairs,  and  up  the  front  stairs  agam  as  he 
slowly  went  his  round,  and  at  the  end  he  went 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  ^ 

back  to  his  own  quarters,  not  to  appear  again 
till  dinner  time. 

On  the  moral  side,  the  facts  which  lead  me  to 
say  that  supervision  did  not  exist  are  hardly- 
such  as  one  can  relate.  But  one  safeguard 
existed.  Pupils  were  permitted  to  be  away 
from  Saturday  till  Monday  morning  if  invited 
by  relations.  So  ran  the  prospectus.  I  soon 
discovered  that  the  invitation  was  not  required 
to  be  a  written  one  to  be  produced  to  the 
principal — (Mr.  Jones  was  the  principal) — and 
that  the  rule  was  satisfied  by  the  mere  state- 
ment that  one  was  gong  to  stay  with  one's 
aunt.  All  the  fellows  had  aunts  who  lived 
mostly  in  the  S.W.  district  of  London. 

It  became  apparent,  however,  that  even  the 
statement  was  not  required.  It  was  taken  for 
granted  that  if  we  were  not  in  the  house  on 
Sunday  morning,  we  had  received  the  usual 
invitation. 

Our  potential  viciousness  was  only  limited 
by  our  means :  and  my  own  means  at  this  time 
made  the  limit  a  narrow  one.  Ever  since  the 
episode    at   school   my   father   had   placed   the 


24  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

strictest  bounds  to  my  allowance  for  pocket- 
money,  with  the  laudable  intention  of  hamper- 
ing my  progress  along  the  primrose  path.  If 
the  primrose  path  invites,  it  is  best  that  it 
should  lie  in  flat  and  easy  country:  the  scenery 
will  probably  become  monotonous.  But  let  it 
lie  in  difficult  and  broken  ground,  and  there  is 
no  trouble  a  young  man  of  spirit  will  not  take 
to  trace  it  to  its  end.  This  is  my  case.  It 
was  made  difficult  for  me  and  therefore 
alluring. 

Moreover,  I  chafed  under  the  sense  that 
many  of  my  companions,  whose  families  were 
far  less  wealthy  than  mine,  were  able  to  take 
the  road  easily,  and  I  determined,  when  my 
chance  should  come,  to  take  it  headlong. 

Scovell  lent  me  money  at  times  under  the 
distinct  understanding  that  I  should  repay  him 
.as  soon  as  I  could.  At  first  he  scorned 
the  idea. 

"  My  dear  Manners,"  he  said,  "  I  have  much 
more  fun  with  you  than  without.  Why  should 
I  expect  you  to  pay  for  my  pleasure  ?" 

However,  he  gave  way  in  the  end — I   was 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  25 

Arm  on  the  point,  and  we  did  what  we  pleased 
within  what  we  could;  so  we  became  the 
closest  friends. 

As  I  had  been  at  Winchester,  it  was 
assumed  as  a  matter  of  course  that  I  should 
go  to  New  College.  Scovell  was  going  to 
Christ  Church.  I  therefore  begged,  and 
finally  obtained  the  consent  of  my  father,  that 
I  should  be  allowed  to  go  up  for  a  Junior 
Studentship  at  Christ  Church,  instead  of  a 
scholarship  at  New  College.  My  cousin,  who 
had  just  then  obtained  a  Wykhamist  Scholar- 
ship from  the  school,  was,  I  believe,  instru- 
mental again  in  helping  this  decision.  He 
represented  that  as  I  was  not  going  up  direct 
from  Winchester,  it  would  probably  be  better 
that  another  College  should  be  selected,  and, 
if  another,  none  could  be  better  than  "  The 
House." 

In  due  time  I  went  up,  and  failed.  Not  by 
many  places,  but  still  failed.  However,  the 
College  was  willing  to  matriculate  me  on  my 
examination,  and  as  there  were  several  in- 
college    scholarships   to   be   obtained,    my   dis- 


26  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

appointed  sire  was  prevailed  upon  to  let  me 
enter  the  College  and  make  an  effort  to  obtain 
one  of  these,  which  Mr.  Jones,  who  was  no 
doubt    sick  of  me,  thought  I  should  do  easily. 

Scovell  had  meanwhile  matriculated.  He 
did  not  aspire  to  scholarship  honours. 

"  A  scholarship,"  he  said,  "  is  not  a  test  of 
the  pupil,  but  of  the  coach." 

I  passed  "  smalls"  and  tried  for  one  scholar- 
ship and  failed.  I  then  went  under  a  famous 
university  tutor  to  prepare  for  another.  I  was 
really  obliged  to  do  some  work  this  time,  and 
to  my  intense  surprise  I  succeeded. 

Success  brings  a  wonderful  sense  of  self- 
gratulation.  I  patted  myself  on  the  back,  and 
felt  proud.  When  I  told  Scovell,  he  said, 
"  What  did  I  tell  you  ? "  which  was  not 
flattering  to  me,  though  quite  sincere  on  his 
part.     And  really  it  seemed  that  he  was  justified. 

Jones,  who  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
matter,  published  my  name  as  one  of  his 
successes  in  his  next  prospectus. 

On  first  going  up  to  Oxford,  my  father  had 
allowed  me  £500  a  year,  which  I  found  quite 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  2% 

inadequate.  By  the  time  I  had  joined  a  Wine 
Club  or  two,  and  been  elected  to  the  Bulling- 
don  Club,  I  discovered  that  if  I  did  not  wish  to 
be  entirely  outstripped  for  pace  by  the  other 
members,  I  should  have  to  discover  some 
means  of  making  the  sum  go  several  times  its 
own  distance. 

My  cousin  Wynne,  now  at  New  College, 
came  to  see  me,  and  I  confided  my  difficulties 
to  him. 

"  Let  me  see,"  he  said;  "you  say  that  if  you 
cut  a  respectable  figure  with  the  Bullingdon 
room,  that  alone  \till  cover  your  £500,  and  my 
uncle  expects  that  to  do  for  everything — fees, 
battels,  wines,  cigars,  and  dress.  Well,  the 
only  thing  is  to  drop  the  Bullingdon." 

"  I  can't  do  that,  you  know,  Percy." 

"  It's  awkward,  but  I  don't  see  what  else. 
Of  course  I  know  that  many  men  don't  pay 
their  battels,  and  go  on  credit  for  all  their 
other  things.  Bu^  you  mustn't  do  that, 
Horace.  The  College  would  send  in  their  bill 
to  your  father,  and  then  he'd  have  to  pay  it, 
or   you    would   be   sent   down.      You   mustn't 


28  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

think  of  that.  As  for  the  tradesmen,  they 
wouldn't  trouble  you  till  you  took  your  degree, 
but  it's  a  frightfully  bad  thing  to  run  into  debt 
with  them,  as  they  charge  you  ruinous  prices 
for  everything,  and  you  can't  get  rid  of  them. 
For  goodness'  sake  don't  run  any  risk  of  that 
sort.  All  I  can  say  is,"  he  added  with  a 
hopeless  shake  of  the  head,  "  drop  the  Bull- 
ingdon." 

Wynne's  admonition  had  suggested  possi- 
bilities to  me,  but  before  trying  them  I  thought 
to  consult  Scovell. 

"  As  for  debts,"  he  said  airily,  "  no  careful 
man  would  be  without  them.  The  truest 
economy  is  to  get  credit  for  everything.  Just 
think  of  the  pull  you  have  over  others 
when  the  end  comes  !  So  much  more  goods 
for  so  much  less  outlay.  In  fact,  you  have 
cheapened  your  market.  And  I  once  heard  of 
a  man  who  made  an  immense  fortune  by 
getting  his  first  stock  on  credit  when  he  hadn't 
a  penny." 

This  light-hearted,  cynical  philosophy  had  a 
curious    effect    on    me.      Although    I    laughed 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  29 

at  it,  I  began  to  take  it  seriously,  and  I  deter- 
mined to  take  the  plunge. 

The  tradesmen  were  most  obliging,  but  I 
discovered  that  they  were  inclined  to  place  a 
limit  on  my  orders.  They  did  not  say  so — 
University  tradesmen  are  far  too  clever  for  that; 
but  I  saw  that  they  knew  pretty  well  the 
amount  of  my  resources  and  expectations. 

So  also  with  my  fellow  members  of  the  Bull- 
ingdon.  They  were  as  nice  as  could  be  to  me. 
But  I  felt  instinctively  that  I  was  kept  down 
to  a  certain  position. 

When  I  obtained  my  scholarship,  my  father 
in  his  delight — for  he  was  beginning  to  despair 
of  me — doubled  my  allowance. 

"It  is  more  profitable  to  be  thought  a  fool 
than  to  be  considered  a  genius,"  observed  phil- 
osopher Scovell  on  hearing  of  it. 

I  immediately  discovered  that  I  had  gone  up 
some  rungs  on  the  Bullingdon  ladder,  that  I 
had  doubled  the  number  of  my  friends  and 
acquaintances,  and  that  the  honest  traders 
were  willing  to  allow  me  just  twice  the  amount 
of  credit. 


30  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

How  this  happened  I  did  not  know.  No 
one  except  Scovell  and  Wynne  knew  anything 
of  my  private  affairs. 

So  within  my  first  year  I  began  to  taste  some 
of  the  pleasures  of  living,  and  the  taste  made 
me  long  for  a  full  feed  :  but  that  my  limited 
means  denied  me    for  the  present. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

At  the  end  of  the  Lent  term  I  went  to  stay 
with  Scovell's  people  at  their  London  house. 

Colonel  Scovell  was  a  pleasant-faced,  easy- 
tempered  man  who  had  completed  his  army 
service  in  India,  and  had  come  home  to 
England  to  pass  the  rest  of  his  life  smiling.  He 
meant  to  take  things  easily,  and  quite  succeeded 
in  his  endeavour.  His  virtues,  and  his  vices  if 
he  had  any,  were  entirely  negative.  It  was 
/  difficult  to  say  what  the  Colonel  was,  his 
description  was  necessarily  what  he  was  not. 
He  was  not  a  politician,  and  considered  the 
Parliament  and  all  its  ways  an  unmitigated  bore. 
He  declined  to  stand  as  a  candidate,  and  never 
took  the  trouble  to  go  to  the  poll.  He  was  not 
a  philanthropist,  and  had  no  desire  to  do  good 
or  harm  to  men  in  general  or  to  any  set  of  men 


32  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

in  particular.  He  was  not  religious,  held  mis- 
sions in  contempt,  and  declined  to  distinguish 
between  the  merits  of  creeds  and  sects.  He 
was  not  a  financier,  was  no  company's  guinea- 
pig,  and  held  no  opinion  on  bimetallism.  He 
was  not  a  sportsman,  in  the  trade  sense  of  the 
word,  and  was  only  once  known  to  have  in- 
quired the  name  of  the  winner  of  the  Derby 
one  autumn  day,  and  then  could  not  say  why 
he  had  asked.  He  was  not  fond  of  society,  but, 
as  became  a  gentleman  of  good  family,  was 
not  a  recluse,  and  took  matters  as  they  came, 
neither  seeking  nor  avoiding. 

Altogether,  then,  he  was  a  happy  man,  happy 
by  the  avoidance  of  any  of  the  cares  that  men 
in  a  like  position  seem  voluntarily  to  assume 
and  continually  to  grumble  at. 

Colonel  Scovell  regarded  his  son  in  the  light 
of  a  curious  accident  in  his  life,  which  had 
happened  he  did  not  know  how,  but  which 
having  happened  was  to  be  taken  as  easily  as 
possible. 

Mrs.  Scovell  was  the  apt  companion  for  her 
husband,  a  good-looking,  placid,  sweet-tempered 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  33 

woman,  whose  pleasant  object  in  life  was  to  pet 
her  husband  and  adore  her  son. 

It  was  not  difficult  to  account  now  for  the 
wonderful  uniformity  of  temper  and  Hght- 
hearted  philosophy  of  my  friend;  indeed  he  was 
one  of  the  luckiest  men  in  the  world,  had  he 
known  it. 

This  family  behaved  towards  one  another  as 
babes  in  Arcadia,  and  no  sense  of  the  due 
relationships  of  the  three  existed  among  them. 
Perfect  equality  prevailed,  and  the  usual  titles 
were  dropped  in  conversation. 

"  We've  had  an  invitation  from  Mrs.  St. 
John-Elliot  to  go  down  to  their  place  at 
Barnes,  for  the  Boat-race.  Do  both  or  either 
of  you  care  to  come  ? "  George  Scovell  was 
addressing  his  father  and  mother. 

"  Boat-race  ?  "  said  the  Colonel.  "  Ah  !  yes, 
between  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  to  be  sure.  I 
didn't  know  it  took  place  at  this  time.  They 
have  one  every  year,  don't  they  ?  " 

"  Yes,  on  an  average.'' 

"  No-o,  thanks.  You  see  I'm  not  interested 
in    the    winner.     You    are,    I    suppose.      St. 


34  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOD 

John-Elliot's,  did  you  say  ?  Ah  !  yes,  parlia- 
mentary fellow,  I  believe;  Whig  or  Tory,  or 
something  of  the  sort.  No-o,  thanks."  And 
the  Colonel  crushed  another  Bombay  duck  over 
his  curried  egg. 

"  You,  dear  ? "  George  said,  turning  to  his 
mother. 

"  I  don't  think  I  care  about  going  to  see  it. 
But  I'll  tell  Watson  to  put  some  blue — yes,  of 
course,  dark  blue  bows  on  the  horses  this 
morning.  I  hope  you  will  win.  It  seems  too 
foolish  to  support  the  wrong  side.  But,  of 
course,  you  will." 

I  believe  the  dear  woman  believed  that 
George's  presence  would  materially  influence 
the  result. 

"  Are  you  rowing  ?  "  said  the  Colonel  to  me, 
evidently  thinking  it  polite  to  appear  to  take 
some  interest.  I  had  been  staying  at  their 
house  for  a  week,  smoking,  eating  unwholesome 
delicacies ,  and  sitting  up  very  late.  But  I 
contented  myself  by  saying,  "No — not  this 
time." 

After   breakfast  Scovell  and  I  started.     We 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  .  35 

had  to  call  at  my  aunf s  to  pick  up  Winifred, 
who  was  staying  there.  My  father  never  came 
to  London  before  May. 

On  the  way  Scovell  said,  "  I  wonder  what 
youll  think  of  Mrs.  St.  John-ElHot  ?  " 

"Why  ?  '^ 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know."  And  he  said  no 
more. 

In  due  course  we  arrived  at  Barnes. 

It  was  a  big  house  with  fine  grounds,  stand- 
ing a  little  distance  from  the  river. 

On  entering  we  found  a  large  company 
chatting  in  groups  in  the  various  rooms,  or 
/wandering  in  pairs  in  the  gardens.  It  needed 
no  skilled  eye  to  see  that  they  belonged  to  that 
class  of  society  which  is  called  "  smart."  It  is 
not  a  particularly  descriptive  word,  but  when 
once  the  full  significance  which  it  now  carries 
with  it  is  appreciated,  it  means  much.  It 
indicates  a  measure  by  which  exactly  to  cut  con- 
duct, a  moral  environment  to  which  the  human 
organism  should  adapt  itself. 

Scovell  introduced  Winifred  and  me  to  Mrs. 
St.  John-Elliot, 


36  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"  So  glad/'  she  said,  with  mechanical  inton- 
ation, when  we  were  introduced.  "  Hope  you 
know  some  people.  If  not — Mr.  Scovell  does. 
Stay  to  luncheon,  of  course,  please." 

All  this  was  said  in  the  same  artificial  tone, 
as  though  she  was  thinking  of  something  else 
the  while  ;  as,  indeed,  she  was,  for  the  next 
moment  she  turned  to  a  military-looking  man 
standing  by  her,  and  said  in  a  dropped  voice, 
*'  I  really  can't  this  evening.  Captain  Abinger." 

As  we  passed  on  slowly  because  the  room 
was  crowded,  I  heard  a  few  further  remarks. 
I  think  Winifred  heard  them  also. 

"  Not  the  least  idea  who  they  are,"  Mrs. 
St.  John-Elliot  was  saying,  "  but  they'll  do. 
Young  Scovell  brought  them." 

"  The  girl  is  pretty,"  the  military  man 
remarked. 

"  No  doubt " — ^her  tone  was  colder — "  you're 
a  judge,  of  course." 

"  A'n't  I  here  ?  " 

"  Don't  be  silly" — a  softened  voice — "  Good 
looking  young  fellow.  I  like  him.  Find  out 
about  them,  Captain." 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  37 

Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot  was  a  tall,  graceful, 
elegantly  costumed  woman  of  twenty-six  or 
twenty-seven  years.  Her  elaborately  dressed 
hair  was  very  fair — whether  entirely  natural  it 
was  impossible  to  say — and  contrasted  with 
very  even  dark  eyebrows.  Her  eyes,  grey- 
green  and  not  large,  were  well  set  and  gazed 
calmly,  liquidly,  and  languidly  from  between 
their  dark  and  deeply  folded  lips.  The  face 
oval  and  rather  thin,  with  a  pointed  chin 
and  square  jaw.  The  complexion  even,  pale, 
and  well  done.  The  nose  straight  with 
slightly  raised  nostrils.  The  lips  straight 
and  thin,  but  bright  coloured.  Passion, 
dissipation,  selfishness  and  beauty  were  all 
there. 

Altogether  a  fascinating  woman  for  men  ;  the 
creation,  and  at  the  same  time,  a  creator  of  her 
set. 

At  the  first  moment  I  was  taken  by  her  ; 
Winifred  did  not  know  what  to  think,  and 
instinctively  was  inclined  to  dislike  her. 

Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot  was  surrounded  by  men 
always,   and,  talking  to  all,  she   maintained   at 


38  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

the  same  time  an  under-conversation  with  one 
or  two  in  especial. 

Her  husband,  to  whom  we  were  not  even 
introduced,  was  a  terrible  shock  to  me.  A 
middle-sized,  ugly,  bearded  man  of  fifty,  with  a 
solemn  and  distracted  air.  A  man  who  seemed 
uncomfortable  in  his  position,  who  addressed 
short,  cold,  dull  commonplaces  to  the  run  of 
guests,  but  with  a  few  men  of  his  own  age  and 
nature  held  long,  heated,  but  equally  dull 
arguments  in  distant  corners.  I  guessed  in- 
stinctively that  Mr.  St.  John-Elliot  was  a 
parliamentary  bore.  The  truly  surprising 
thing  about  this  was  that,  in  a  past  day,  he 
had  actually  rowed  in  the  'Varsity  eight,  and 
had  never  once  since  then  missed  seeing  the 
race  nor  omitted  to  go  up  to  Oxford  during  the 
"  Eights  "  week. 

Scovell  introduced  us  to  some  people  and 
pointed  out  others.  On  account  of  my  father's 
retired  habits,  more  accentuated  since  my 
mother's  death,  we  did  not  know  very  many 
people,  and  those  not  of  the  "  smart "  section. 
The  only  one  I  knew  by  sight  and  by  a  single 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  39 

introduction,  was  Lord  Padstow,  an  elderly 
peer,  with  a  face  like  a  shrivelled  apple,  a  dyed 
moustache,  and  a  dubious  moral  reputation. 

Lord  Padstow  had  attached  himself  to  the 
younger  of  two  sisters  (both  very  young  girls, 
about  sixteen  and  fourteen  years  respectively) 
and  was,  what  in  homely  language  would  be 
called,  "  carrying  on "  with  her.  Both  the 
girls  were  decidedly  pretty,  and  their  general 
carriage  was  seductive,  but  I  could  not  help 
being  impressed  with  an  unpleasant  sense  of 
un^aturalness  in  their  style  and  manner  of 
behaviour  and  of  conversation,  which  were  not 
only  far  beyond  their  apparent  years,  but  were 
not  by  any  means  in  the  best  style. 

"  Those  are  the  Studley  girls,  daughters 
of  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Mary  Studley,"  Scovell 
remarked. 

I  commented  upon  their  method  of  conduct. 

"Yes,"  he  said;  "sweet  contradictions, 
aren't  they  ?  Children  of  heaven  and  women 
of  the  world  at  the  same  time.  But  you  should 
see  their  mother.  Unfortunately  she  isn't  here 
to-day."      Then  he  dropped  his  voice  so  that 


40  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

Winifred  should  not  hear.  "  Good  fun  though, 
I  can  tell  you.  I'm  going  to  take  on  the  elder 
myself  directly.  Old  Padstow  has  taken  the 
young  one  in  hand,  the  old  satyr  ;  but  she's  his 
inatch  any  day." 

At  this  moment  the  military  man  who  had 
been  talking  to  Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot  came 
up. 

"  Hulloa  !  Scovell.  Hope  your  father's  all 
right.     When  are  you  going  to  join  us  ?  " 

"  Some  day,  perhaps,"  Scovell  replied; 
"  when  there  is  a  vacant  commission — say  when 
you  send  in  your  papers,  Abinger." 

He    smiled  unpleasantly,   but  replied,   "  Not 
just  yet,  then — will  you  introduce  me  to  your 
friends  ?  " 
-    Scovell  did  so. 

Captain  Eldred  Abinger  was  a  man  of  thirty- 
three,  as  I  guessed,  tall,  fair,  slightly  aquiline, 
unhesitatingly  military.  He  had  a  strong, 
confident  manner,  tending  to  arouse  antag- 
onism in  men  and  admiration  in  women.  He 
paid  the  boldest  and  glibbest  of  compliments  to 
Winifred  in  a  mocking  tone  of  superiority  and 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  41 

assurance  which  made  me  almost  annoyed  to 
see  that  my  sister  obviously  liked  it. 

He  soon  contrived  to  saunter  off  with 
Winifred,  and  I  saw  little  more  of  her  till  later 
in  the  day.  Scovell  himself  seemed  somewhat 
put  out. 

"  I  don't  care  much  about  Abinger,"  he 
said,  "  but  perhaps  it  would  be  different  if  I 
were  ^a  woman — which  I'm  not,  thank  good- 
ness, for  there's  Folly  Studley." 

And  with  that  he  went  off  to  attach  himself 
to  the  elder  of  the  two  girls. 

It  was  time  now  to  move  down  to  the  river- 
side where  St.  John-Elliot  had  a  private 
enclosure.  I  thought  for  a  moment  that  I 
should  have  to  go  by  myself,  when  to  my  sur- 
prise and  delight  Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot  came 
towards  me. 

"  Will  you  escort  me,  Mr.  Manners  ? "  she 
asked.  ''  I've  stupidly  invited  so  many  pretty 
girls  here  to-day — your  sister  included — that 
all  my  men  have  left  me." 

I  was  only  too  pleased,  and  felt  a  thrill  of 
pride,   mingled  with  an  emotion  I  could  not 


42  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

analyze,  as  I  walked  with  her  to  the 
river. 

I  talked  volubly,  and  uttered  as  many  and  as 
ingenious  compliments  as  I  could  invent.  I 
thought  I  was  doing  very  well.  She  listened 
and  replied  with  a  half-amused  air.  She 
evidently  liked  it,  and  no  doubt  my  combination 
of  innocence  and  assurance  was  delightfully 
fresh  to  her  after  the  town-worn  manner  of 
most  of  the  men  of  her  set. 

I  made  her  a  preposterous  bet  in  gloves, 
which  she  accepted  readily,  but  with  a  little 
hard  laugh  that  I  did  not  understand. 

In  time  the  boats  came  in  sight.  Cambridge 
was  leading  by  a  length,  but  a  reasonably 
experienced  eye  could  see  that,  while  the  lead- 
ing crew  were  showing  by  a  certain  raggedness 
of  the  oars  that  their  efforts  were  beginning  to 
tell,  the  Oxford  crew  were  rowing  well  within 
themselves  and  were  merely  waiting  their  time. 
I  said  this  to  Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot. 

It  was  a  popular  theory  at  one  time  that  the 
boat  which  was  brought  to  Hammersmith 
Bridge  first  would  certainly  win,  bar  accidents. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  43 

Captain  Abinger,  who  was  standing  with 
Winifred  not  far  off,  evidently  held  this  belief. 

"  It's  a  monkey  to  a  fiver  on  Cambridge," 
he  said  aloud. 

In  a  moment,  with  a  sharp  determined  tone 
that  I  had  not  suspected  in  her,  Mrs.  St.  John- 
Elliot  said, — 

"  0one,  Captain  !  " 

He  turned  his  head  quickly  in  our  direction, 
looked  hard  at  her,  then  bowed  and  said, — 

"  Certainly.  You  are  wonderfully  quick  at 
an  offer." 

It  was  clear  he  would  have  backed  out  if  it 
had  been  possible;  but  many  people  had 
heard. 

When  the  umpire's  boat  returned  the  dark 
blue  flag  was  atop. 

Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot  laughed  with  a  hard 
little  inward  laugh;  then  turning  to  me  said 
in  her  most  melting  manner, — 

"  You  shall  have  your  gloves.  I  insist  upon 
it.     Give  me  your  address  before  you  go." 

We  all  went  back  to  the  house  and  had 
luncheon.     Afterwards    a    game    of   pool    was 


44  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

started,  a  game  of  mere  amusement  at  first  in 
which  the  ladies  joined,  and  everyone  offered 
chaff  and  advice  as  he  or  she  chose. 

Several  of  the  men  did  not  play,  Scovell  and 
myself  among  them,  but  merely  contented 
ourselves  with  giving  directions  to  the  ladies. 
I  and  a  certain  Dick  Farrington  were  Mrs.  St. 
John-ElHot's  advisers;  Captain  Abinger  tutored 
Winifred,  Scovell,  Miss  Studley,  and  so  on. 

I  was  introduced  to  Dick  Farrington.  He 
spelled  his  name  Ffarrington,  but  no  one  else 
did,  except  ceremoniously. 

He  was  a  young  man  of  good  family,  a  Cam- 
bridge man,  and  an  athlete  who  had  adopted 
the  stage  as  a  profession — as  the  profession. 
He  was  really  a  clever,  charming  fellow,  and  in 
the  course  of  that  afternoon  we  became  very 
good  friends,  promising  to  look  each  other  up 
and  exchanging  cards. 

After  a  few  games  the  ladies  retired  from  the 
table,  and  a  serious  game  was  entered  upon. 
The  players  were  five — Captain  Abinger,  Sir 
Reginald  Vane-Vane,  Farrington,  Scovell,  and 
myself.     I  had  a  fairly  good  opinion  of  myself 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  45 

as  a  pool  player.  No  self-respecting  "  Jones's 
man "  had  otherwise — and  rightly,  since  we 
played  among  ourselves  every  afternoon  in 
the  winter,  and  it  was  a  habit,  when  any  one 
of  us  happened  to  be  especially  hard  up  on 
Saturday,  and  yet  wished  to  go  up  to  town  to 
stay  with  an  aunt  till  Monday,  for  such  to  go 
down  to  the  public  table  in  the  local  town,  and 
play  a  few  games.  I  have  done  so  more 
than  once,  and  never  failed  to  accomplish  my 
desire. 

Here,  however,  I  found  I  was  in  very  warm 
company.  Scovell  and  Farrington  I  did  not 
mind,  but  the  other  two  were  something 
peculiarly  sultry.  I  inquired  of  Scovell  about 
Sir  Reginald  Vane. 

"Well,  he's  Reggy  Vane— that's  all,"  he 
replied. 

As  no  further  information  was  forthcoming, 
I  can  only  say  that  Sir  Reginald  Vane- Vane, 
commonly  Reggy  Vane,  was  a  young-old  or 
old-young  man,  inscrutable  as  to  age,  character 
and  occupation,  irreproachably  dressed,  and 
on    terms  of  familiarity  with  everyone.     After 


46  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

five  minutes  I  was  "  Manners "  and  he  was 
"  Vane,"  all  titles  of  courtesy  being  dropped. 

I  didn't  lose,  which  is  all  I  can  say.  Scovell 
lost  a  lot,  and  Farrington  after  a  few  games  gave 
it  up.  When  Scovell  dropped  out,  three-pool 
was  proposed,  which  I  declined,  for  I  felt  I  was 
to  be  cut  up,  and  at  this  game  I  knew  too 
much  for  that.  So  they  played  single  pool,  as 
no  one  else  cared  to  take  a  ball.  It  was  an 
interesting  match,  and  Vane  got  the  best  of  it. 

When  time  for  leave-taking  came,  Mrs.  St. 
John-Elliot  was  very  effusive  to  Winifred, 
to  my  surprise,  and  made  us  promise  to  come 
and  see  her  again.  Captain  Abinger  was 
equally  cordial  to  me. 

On  the  way  home,  Scovell  said,  "  What  do 
you  think  of  Mrs.  Elliot  ?  " 

"  I  don't  much  care  about  her,"  Winifred 
replied,  "  but  I  think  Captain  Abinger  is  very 
nice." 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  about  him,  but  I  think 
Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot  is  charming,"  I  said. 

Scovell  laughed.  "  I  tell  you  what  though: 
that  little  Studley  girl  is  a  scorcher." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

W:^  took  Winifred  back  to  my  aunf s,  and 
went  home  to  dinner.  After  dinner  we  made 
a  vain  effort  to  settle  ourselves  down  for  the 
evening.  The  mental  disorder  into  which  a 
day  spent  as  this  had  been  had  thrown  us, 
unsettled  our  minds  and  excited  in  us  a  nervous 
restlessness  which  made  the  house  seem  a 
narrow  prison. 

We  tried  to  play  billiards,  but  after  playing 
a  hundred  up  in  which  the  highest  run  had 
been  eight,  Scovell  said,  "  Oh,  hang  this  ! 
Let's  go  out." 

The  suggestion  suited  my  mood  exactly,  and 
was  one  which  I  should  long  ago  have  made 
myself  had  the  ordinary  laws  of  courtesy 
permitted  it. 

"PVaps    they   wouldn't   Hke   it,"    I    said   in 


48  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

feeble  protest.  "  They "  was  a  compromise 
on  my  part,  the  conditions  under  which  the 
family  lived  making  it  most  difficult  to  say 
"father  and  mother,"  or  any  equivalent. 

"  Mind  ?  Of  course  not.  You  don't  know 
us  yet.  Manners.  Everyone  in  the  house  does 
exactly  as  he  or  she  pleases." 

So  we  went,  and  as  a  fair  start  took  a 
hansom  to  Piccadilly  Circus.  It  was  Boat- 
race  night.  The  disorder  of  that  night  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Criterion  has  much 
moderated  of  late  years;  but  at  the  time  of 
which  I  write  the  Boat-race  was  in  the  height 
of  popularity,  and  Boat-race  night  was  kept  as 
a  revel.  On  one  or  more  occasions  about  this 
date  the  Criterion  and  one  or  two  other 
restaurants  were  wrecked  by  a  mob  of  dis- 
orderly young  men  as  a  small  protest  against 
the  desire  of  the  managements  to  maintain 
some  sort  of  order  in  their  establishments. 
These  riotous  scenes  were  ascribed  in  the 
morning  papers  to  medical  students,  and  the 
police  reports  of  the  cases  of  those  delinquents 
who  next  morning  were  "  up  before  the  magis- 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  49 

trate"  seemed  to  justify  the  statement.  It  is, 
however,  only  fair  to  the  "  medicals "  to  say 
that  any  disorderly  youth  who  finds  himself  in 
that  unfortunate  position  has  his  profession 
entered  in  the  charge  sheet  as  "  medical 
student,"  in  the  same  manner  as  every  mis- 
demeaning  young  woman  is  an  "  actress." 
Why  these  two  professions  are  selected  it  is 
difficult  to  say,  but  such  is  the  case. 

Piccadilly  Circus  and  its  neighbourhood  was 
crowded,  and  we  soon  met  with  several  Univer- 
sity friends,  but  the  great  majority  of  the 
male  crowd  was  composed  of  young  fellows 
who  had  certainly  never  seen  the  inside  of 
a  public  school,  and  to  whom  Oxford  and 
Cambridge  were  only  names. 

How  we  spent  the  next  two  hours  needs 
no  detailed  description.  They  were  passed 
alternately  at  the  Criterion  and  St.  James's 
restaurants,  varied  by  an  occasional  visit  for 
twenty  minutes  to  the  Pavilion  Music  Hall. 
Leaving  these  for  the  last  time  after  eleven, 
Scovell  and  I  went  for  a  last  turn  round  the 
Circus,  after  which  we  intended  to  go  home. 


50  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

Suddenly  among  the  crowds  of  men  and 
women  that  thronged  the  place,  my  eyes  fell  on  a 
girl  whom  I  seemed  to  recognize.  The  pressure 
on  the  pavement  was  so  great  at  the  moment 
that  we  were  scarcely  moving,  and  I  was  face  to 
face  with  her  for  many  seconds.  She  turned 
her  eyes  in  my  direction,  and  there  came  over 
her  face  a  look  of  doubt  and  then  of  recog- 
nition, pleasurable  at  first  and  then  frightened. 

"  Nelly  !  "  I  said,  "  is  that  you?  You  know 
me?" 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  "you're  Horace — Mr. 
Manners." 

It  was  indeed  Nelly  Sawyer,  the  girl  about 
whom  I  got  into  trouble  at  Winchester.  I  had 
told  no  one,  not  even  Scovell,  of  that  episode 
in  my  career,  not  because  I  was  in  any  way 
ashamed  of  it  myself,  but  from  a  chivalrous 
sense  that  it  might  somehow  get  spread  abroad 
and  so  injure  the  reputation  of  the  girl  herself. 

I  therefore  merely  said, — 

"  There's  a  girl  I  want  to  speak  to  for  a  few 
minutes.     Where  shall  I  find  you  again  ?  " 

I  saw  immediately  that  quite  naturally  and 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  51 

innocently  Scovell  put  a  misinterpretation  to 
my  words. 

"  All  right,  old  man — never  mind  me.  I'm 
going  home  directly.  You  can  come  along  just 
when  you  like — Ah,  by  the  way,"  he  added 
after  a  slight  pause  while  he  felt  in  his  pocket, 
"  you'd  better  take  the  latch-key.  They'll  be 
up  when  I  get  home.  So  long.  Breakfast 
at  nine  o'clock,  I  shall  see  you  then." 

And  slipping  the  key  into  my  hand,  he  was 
away  in  the  crowd  before  I  ha^  time  to  say  a 
word  by  way  of  explanation. 

Why  I  should  have  troubled  myself  about  an 
explanation  at  all  I  don't  know,  except  that  it 
was  in  my  nature  to  wish  to  justify  myself 
under  any  circumstances,  and  in  this  case  the 
explanation  was  of  such  an  innocent  character 
that  I  felt  annoyed  not  to  have  an  opportunity 
of  making  it,  and  making  it  with  perfect 
truth.  Ail  my  explanations  were  not  of  such 
simplicity  and  verity. 

I  turned  to  Nelly. 

"  Who'd  have  thought  of  meeting  you  here  ! " 
she  remarked. 


52  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

The  vulgarity  of  this  cliche  of  London  greet- 
ing shocked  me  a  Uttle.  Memory  places  facts 
on  its  stage  with  considerable  illusion,  and 
when  we  recall  scenes  of  a  past  day  we  view 
them  as  though  in  a  theatre,  accepting  tinsel 
as  gold  and  an  ill-educated  woman  as  a 
princess. 

Although  only  three  years  had  passed  (Ah  ! 
but  the  three  years  between  sixteen  and  nine- 
teen is  a  very  long  time)  my  memory  of  Nelly 
had  doubtless  modified  the  original.  I  recalled 
her  as  a  pretty,  shy,  saucy  little  girl,  and  I 
connected  no  vulgarity  with  her. 

Now  that  she  was  once  more  before  me  I 
saw  that  she  was  still  pretty  and  still  saucy, 
prettier  and  saucier  perhaps,  but  the  touch  of 
vulgarity  and  boldness  in  her  form  and  manner 
of  speech  caused  me  at  first  an  uncomfortable 
sensation.     I  had  not  expected  it. 

I  replied  that  of  two  things  unlikely  to 
happen,  the  more  unlikely  of  the  two  was  tP 
meet  her  here. 

"  Oh,  well,  you  never  know  your  luck,  do 
you  ?    But  I'm  glad,  that  I  am,  really." 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  53 

"  So  am  I,  Nelly.  I  have  often  wondered 
what  had  become  of  you,  and  whether  I  should 
ever  see  you  again.  I've  found  you  now, 
and  we'll  celebrate  the  occasion.  Come 
along." 

I  led  her  away  towards  Coventry  street, 
intending  to  give  her  some  supper  at  one  of 
the  restaurants  in  that  neighbourhood  where 
the  cooking  is  good  and  a  private  room  can 
always  be  had. 

"  I  want  you  to  tell  me  all  about  yourself, 
what  you  have  been  doing  since  we  last  met, 
and  how  you  came  to  be  here." 

I  wished  to  make  her  talk  so  that  I  might 
have  a  betjter  opportunity  of  observing  her  and 
of  recovering  from  the  slight  shock  I  had 
received,  but  which  I  realized  was  probably 
due  to  warts  on  the  memory  as  much  as  to 
the  bloom  that  three  years  had  rubbed  ofJ 
Nelly. 

"V/ell,  after  that,"  she  said,  "father  treated 
me  shameful.  I  wasn't  let  do  anything,  not  go 
out  nor  speak  to  anyone  nor  nothing." 

"  I'm  afraid  that  was  mostly  my  fault." 


54  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"Don't  bother  about  whose  fault  it  was," 
she  repHed.  "  If  it  was  yours,  I  Hked  it.  We 
did  have  some  fun,  didn't  we  ? "  she  added 
laughing . 

The  more  I  looked  at  her  the  more  was  I 
struck  with  the  knowledge  of  what  a  fine 
handsome  girl  she  had  become,  not  quite  the 
Nelly  I  remembered,  but  a  Nelly  to  whom,  if 
something  was  missing,  something  had  been 
added.  I  was  impatient  to  be  out  of  the  crowd 
in  the  streets,  and  in  some  place  where  we  could 
talk  privately. 

"  Father  sent  me  into  service  at  a  place  near 
Windsor.  I  stayed  as  long  as  I  could,  but  I 
couldn't  stand  it.  They  didn't  give  us  enough 
to  eat,  and  we  used  to  have  to  sneak  the  things 
when  they  came  down  from  upstairs.  One  day 
my  mistress  had  the  cheek  to  threaten  me 
because  I  had  cut  off  some  cold  meat  for  myself. 
Mean  old  cat  !  I  wasn't  going  to  stand  that,  I 
can  tell  you.  Catch  me  !  So  I  just  put  on  my 
things  then  and  there,  and  marched  myself  out." 

"  And  then—?  " 

"  It  was  a  winter  night  and  sleeting  and  a  cold 


/ 

A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  55 

wind.  I  hadn't  got  on  only  a  thin  jacket.  I 
walked  a  long  way  till  I  felt  tired,  and  sat  down 
under  a  hedge  till  I  went  to  sleep.  When 
I  woke  it  was  getting  morning,  and  I  was 
wet  through  and  felt  awful  bad,  especially  in 
my  chest.  A  cart  came  along,  and  I  asked  for 
a  lift  to  London.  He  was  a  civil  man.  He 
wanted  to  lark  with  me  at  first,  but  he  saw 
how  ill  I  was,  and  covered  me  up  with  sacks  ; 
and  when  he  got  to  London  he  went  a  bit  out 
of  his  way  round  by  the  hospital.  They  kept 
me  in  there  for  three  months.  I  was  nearly 
gone  one  night.  Even  now  in  the  winter  my 
cough  is  bad." 

"  Poor  girl  ! "  I  said  with  a  sudden  impulse 
of  feeling,  for  I  could  not  but  see  that  her 
misfortunes  were  due  to  my  folly.  I  said  as 
much. 

"  Oh,  go  on  !  What  of  it  ?  I'm  here 
now." 

This  "  sufficient  for  the  day"  sentiment  was 
evidence,  I  am  afraid,  less  of  a  philosophic  than 
of  a  shallow  mind. 

We  had  arrived  at  the  restaurant  and  were 


56  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

shown  to  a  private  dining-room  upstairs.  She 
wished  to  have  supper  in  the  pubHc  room 
below,  but  I  resisted  that.  With  a  fooHshness 
that  I  should  not  be  likely  to  repeat  at  the 
present  time,  I  gave  her  the  bill  of  fare  to 
choose  from.  She  selected  oysters,  a  porter- 
house steak,  a  lobster  mayonnaise,  and  ices. 
The  waiter  suggested  champagne,  in  which  she 
acquiesced.  At  the  moment  I  did  not  under- 
stand the  principle  on  which  her  supper  was 
chosen.  It  did  not  appear  to  be  an  elegant, 
but  rather  an  indigestible  meal.  On  glancing 
at  the  bill  later  I  found  the  solution  of  the 
puzzle.  Her  method  was  indeed  simple.  She 
had  chosen  those  items  against  which  the 
highest  prices  were  marked,  with  the  exception 
of  the  ices,  which  are  things  that  no  woman 
with  sound  teeth  can  pass  by. 

We  conversed  in  ordinary  stupidities  during 
the  service  of  supper,  as  the  waiter  was  in  and 
out  of  the  room.  When  he  brought  in  the 
ices  he  said  that  if  we  wished  for  anything  else 
would  we  kindly  "  just  touch  the  bell,"  and  re- 
tired, discreetly  closing  the  door. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  57 

Once  more  alone,  I  went  and  sat  by  Nelly 
and  kissed  her. 

"  Now  I  want  to  hear  more  of  your  story." 

"  Why  ?  What  does  it  matter  ?  I'm  here. 
Do  you  remember  that  walk  we  had  together 
one  moonlight  night  ?  " 

I  remembered  it  very  well,  and  a  strange 
thrill  went  through  me  as  I  realized  that  we 
were  here — the  same  I  and  the  same  She.  But 
I  wanted  to  know  more  about  her. 

"  You  old  silly,"  she  said,  throwing  her  arms 
round  my  neck,  ''  why  do  you  want  to  know  ? 
You  men  always  want  to  know  too  much." 

The  wine  had  evidently  got  a  little,  just  a 
little,  into  her  head. 

"  Well,  I  went  to  stay  with  another  girl,  with 
whom  I  had  made  friends  in  the  hospital.  I 
got  one  or  two  things  to  do  in  shops  and  such 
like,  but  they  didn't  last  long.  Then  I  thought 
I  would  try  to  get  on  the  stage.  I  went  to 
an  agent's — "     She  stopped  abruptly. 

"  Well  ?  "   I  queried. 

She  hung  down  her  head  and  picked  the 
crumbs  off  her  lap. 


58  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"  What  does  it  matter  ?  I  didn't  succeed  in 
getting  anything.  Why  do  you  persist  in 
asking  ?  " 

"  Because  I  mean  to  know,  Nelly,"  I  said 
gravely.  "  I  want  to  know  all  about  it,  and 
about  what  you  are  doing  now."  She  told 
me  the  rest,  and  I  heard  with  self-reproach 
and  sorrow,  mingled  with  an  unreasonable 
sense  of  jealousy.  She  too  was  affected 
and  began  to  cry.  I  let  her,  and  kissed  the 
tears. 

"Poor  little  girl,"  I  said,  "and  it  is  all 
through  me." 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  replied  slowly,  with  the  intent, 
as  it  seemed  to  me,  to  be  magnanimous,  "  at 
least,  not  all." 

"  Thank  you,  Nelly  dear,"  I  murmured ; 
"  but  look  here  ;  this  must  not  go  on.  I  will 
take  care  of  you  until  you  can  get  something 
worth  doing,  something  that  will  give  you 
enough  to  live  upon  decently." 

"  I  wish  you  would,  for  I'm  sick  of  it." 

"  I  will."  And  T  never  felt  so  good  in  my  life 
as  at  that  moment 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  59 

"  Suppose  now,"  I  said,  "  that  I  were  to  go 
and  see  your  father,  and  try — " 

"  No,"  she  interrupted,  "  no,  I  can't  do  that. 
I  could  never  be  happy.  I  should  go  away 
again." 

"  If  so,  then  it's  no  use.  You  think  you 
would  like  the  stage  ?  " 

"  I  know  I  should,"  she  answered,  brighten- 
ing up. 

"  I'll  try.  It  may  be  rather  difficult  at  first, 
and  take  a  little  time.  But  never  mind  ;  you 
sha'n't  want  till  then — nor  after." 

"  You  are  a  dear,  kind,  good  boy."  She 
kissed  me  affectionately,  dried  her  eyes,  and 
talked  cheerfully  of  our  past  days  and  many 
other  things. 

A  little  later  there  was  a  discreet  knock  at 
the  door.  I  said  "  Come  in,"  but  the  waiter 
did  not  enter  until  Nelly  had  had  time  to 
smooth  her  hair. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  madam,  but  we're  just 
closing." 

I  paid  the  bill  and  we  went  out  into  the 
street.     It  was  half-past  twelve. 


CHAPTER   V. 

Thk  next  morning,  after  breakfast,  I  told 
Scovell  that  I  rather  wanted  to  try  to  get  a 
girl  I  knew  on  the  stage.  Could  he  suggest 
how  to  go  about  it  ? 

"  A  girl,"  he  echoed,  as  if  in  meditation. 
"  Yes,  of  course."  He  picked  up  the  news- 
paper and  examined  it  for  a  few  minutes,  so 
that  I  almost  believed  that  he  wished  to  avoid 
the  subject.  However,  he  did  not.  "  There 
are  twenty-seven  theatrical  agents  who  adver- 
tise that  they  have  openings  for  beginners.  It 
would  appear  that  beginners  are  scarce.  Any 
part  from  leading  to  extra  lady  seems  to  be 
procurable — on  terms.  There  ought  to  be  no 
difficulty." 

I  asked  him  to  be  serious,  but  he  went  on, — 
"The  addresses  of  these  honest    tradesmen 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  61 

seem,  for  the  most  part,  to  be  in  Stamford 
Street  and  York  Road.  Do  you  know  the 
locaHty  ?  " 

I  admitted  my  ignorance. 

"  Pro's  corner  is  a  liberal  education  in 
theatrical  matters.  There  will  be  found  there 
at  mid-day  many  persons  willing  and  able  to 
take  any  part  from  lead  to  extra.  But  these 
gentlemen  want  beginners.  It  would  appear 
therefore  that  in  the  profession,  unlike  any 
other  profession,  it  is  more  profitable  to  know 
nothing  ;  a  theory  which  my  recent  experiences 
of  the  stage  most  fully  confirm.*' 

"  More  sense  and  less  sententiousness,"  I 
said,  imitating  his  style,  "  would  better  befit  a 
student  of  the  ancient  and  learned  University 
of  Oxford.     Drop  it  !  " 

"  Go  and  see  Dick  Farrington.  He'll  know. 
I'll  come  with  you.  I  can  tell  where  to  find 
him  at  most  hours  of  the  clock." 

An  hour  later  we  made  our  way  down  to  the 
Strand. 

"  Eleven-seventeen,  "  said  Scovell.  "  Then 
Farrington  will  be  in  Gatti's  bar." 


62  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

He  was.  He  welcomed  us  both,  and  after 
the  usual  formalities  of  the  place,  I  opened  the 
subject. 

"  Look  here.  Manners,"  he  said,  "  it  depends 
what  kind  of  a  shop  she  wants.  Is  it  a  speak- 
ing part,  or  a  leg  show  ?  " 

I  did  not  quite  like  the  idea — I  had  some 
romance  left  in  me — but  I  presumed  that,  as 
she  had  had  no  experience,  it  would  be  a  leg 
show. 

"  In  that  case  I  should  advise  you  to  go  to 
Williamson's.  He  can  do  it,  I  know.  But  as 
a  piece  of  advice,  don't  stand  any  nonsense. 
Insist  upon  seeing  him^  and  him  only  and  by 
himself.  Say  plainly  what  you  want,  that  you 
are  personally  interested  in  the  girl,  and  do  the 
necessary." 

"  How  much  will  the  necessary  run  to  ?  "  I 
asked. 

"  You  may  safely  say  that  a  fiver  will  get  you 
the  introduction  to  the  manager  of  a  going 
concern." 

Leaving  him  and  Scovell  together,  I  made 
my    way    to    Williamson's    as    directed.     The 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  63 

offices  were  over  a  shop  in  one  of  the  streets  off 
the  Strand.  I  made  my  way  upstairs  and 
entered  a  gaudily-shabbily  furnished  room  on 
the  first  floor.  It  was  full  of  actors  and 
actresses  all  talking  volubly.  The  men  were 
both  old  and  young,  and  carried  the  mark  of 
their  profession  in  their  faces,  their  clothes, 
their  manner,  and  their  speech.  The  women 
were  some  smartly  dressed,  others  not  so 
smartly  ;  some  pretty,  others  not  so  pretty  ; 
some  young,  others  not  so  young.  On  my 
entry  I  received  such  a  staring  up  and  down 
that  I  felt  for  the  moment  quite  uncomfortable. 
The  men  stared  at  me  with  obvious  mistrust 
as  on  one  who  was  come  to  take  the  bread  out 
of  their  mouths.  They  soon  decided,  however, 
that  I  was  not  a  competitor.  I  suppose  I  did 
not  look  it.  The  women,  much  quicker  to 
notice  the  fact,  looked  at  me  with  quite  other 
interest,  and  had  it  not  been  that  I  remembered 
the  object  with  which  I  had  come,  I  imagine 
that  I  should  only  have  been  anticipating  the 
wish  of  one  or  two  of  the  smarter,  younger, 
and  prettier  if  I  had  offered  luncheon  at  some 


64  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOD 

neighbouring  restaurant,  making  of  course 
some  convenient  excuse  for  first  speaking.  At 
intervals  a  youngish  clerk  entered  the  room 
through  a  baize  door  and  mentioned  a  name, 
whereupon  he  was  immediately  surrounded 
with  women  inquiring  coaxingly  whether  he 
did  not  think  there  was  something  for  them 
to-day,  whilst  the  men  from  a  distance  made 
grumbling  appeals  on  the  length  of  time  they 
had  been  kept  waiting. 

After  a  while  I  saw  that  unless  I  forced  my 
way  I  might  remain  there  all  day.  When  he 
next  appeared  I  quickly  took  him  aside  saying 
that  I  wished  to  speak  to  Mr.  Williamson  at 
once. 

"  Mr.  Williamson's  very  busy  just  now.  I'm 
afraid  he  can't  see  you.  Will  you  look  in  to- 
morrow ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  must  see  him  now,"  I  said.  "  I'm 
sure  he  will  see  me  if  you  will  take  this 
in." 

I  put  my  card,  against  the  underneath  side 
of  which  I  held  a  sovereign,  into  his  hand.  A 
look  of  quick  appreciation  came  into  his  face. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  65 

He  looked  at  my  card  intently,  and  then  said 
civilly, — 

"  I'll  take  it  in  at  once,  sir." 

This  remark  had  the  effect  of  drawing  all 
eyes  upon  me  again,  and  I  realized  that  I  was 
at  once  raised  to  the  position  in  the  popular 
esteem  of  one  of  the  theatre-supporting 
aristocracy.  The  ladies  languished  and  the 
men  swelled. 

Mr.  Williamson,  a  middle-aged  man,  indu- 
bitably of  Semitic  origin,  broadly  dressed,  and 
not  quite  concealing  a  large  diamond  ring, 
said, — 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you,  Mr. — er— 
Manners  ?  " 

I  told  him  my  business.  He  made  great 
difficulties  about  the  matter,  talked  volubly  of 
the  overstocked  market,  of  the  number  of  clever 
ladies  in  his  books  for  whom  it  was  impossible 
to  find  places.  However,  he  would  enter  the 
lady's  name.  Of  course  he  would  have  to  see 
her  first,  though  he  did  not  doubt  my  statement 
that  she  was  tall,  well-proportioned,  and  pretty. 
The  fee  would  be  one  guinea  for  booking. 


66  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

I  mentally  decided  to  double  the  figure 
suggested  by  Farrington.  I  placed  a  ten  pound 
note  on  the  table.  He  took  it  up,  looked  at  it 
both  sides,  and  then  opened  a  locked  drawer  in 
his  desk  as  if  to  find  change. 

I  merely  rose,  held  out  my  hand  cordially  to 
him,  and  said  I  would  bring  the  lady  at  the 
same  time  to-morrow. 

He  took  the  situation  without  the  sign  of  a 
flutter,  opened  the  door  for  me,  shook  hands 
again  so  that  the  crowd  in  the  ante-room  might 
see,  and  called  out, — 

"  Purvis,  show  Mr.  Manners  down  stairs  ! " 


CHAPTER    VI. 

Whkn  I  returned  to  the  bar  I  found  Scovell 
and  Dick  Farrington  still  there.  I  related  to 
them  the  history  of  my  adventure. 

"  That's  all  right,  my  boy,"  Farrington  said, 
"  as  far  as  it  goes.  Williamson  will  probably 
send  the  girl  down  to  some  theatre  to  see 
someone,  the  acting  manager,  or  whoever  may 
be  responsible  for  giving  the  engagements. 
But  it  doesn't  end  there.  If  I  were  you,  I 
should  manage  to  go  with  her  myself.  It  will 
be  seen  then  that  she  is  properly  backed.  Let 
her  go  as  smart  as  possible.  They  generally 
like  their  ladies  to  dress  well." 

I  thanked  him  for  his  advice  and  for  the 
interest  he  had  taken  in  the  matter,  promising 
to  look  him  up  again  when  the  business  was 
settled,  and  tell  him  how  I  got  on.  Then 
Scovell  ^nd  I  took  our  leav^. 


68  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

The  same  evening  after  dinner  I  asked  to  be 
excused  for  an  hour  or  two  as  I  wished  to 
visit  a  friend  I  had  promised  to  look  up  when 
I  was  in  town.  As  usual  I  encountered  no 
objection.  I  took  a  hansom  to  West  Kensing- 
ton with  the  intention  of  seeing  Nelly  and 
telling  her  what  I  had  done.  Arrived  at  the 
house,  I  inquired  for  her,  but  was  told  that  she 
had  had  tea  at  six  o'clock  and  had  afterwards 
dressed  and  gone  out. 

"  Did  she  say  when  she  would  be  in  ?  " 

"  No  sir  ;  I  expect  her  any  time,"  was  the 
answer. 

It  was  foolish  of  me  not  to  have  told  her  to 
expect  me,  nor  to  have  sent  a  telegram  to  her 
in  the  morning  after  my  interview.  It  some- 
how never  occurred  to  me  that  she  would  be 
out  in  the  evening. 

Saying  I  would  probably  call  back  later, 
I  went  away.  I  did  not  know  what  to  do  to 
kill  time  ;  so  I  started  by  walking  anywhere 
and  meditating.  The  result  of  my  meditation 
was  to  show  me  that  I  was  certainly  rather 
"  gone  "  on  Nellie  Sawyer.     I  was  not  in  love 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  69 

with  her.  How  could  I  be  ?  Her  leaven  of 
vulgarity  in  person  and  intellect  prevented 
that  ;  but  I  realized  that  she  was  a  beautiful 
woman,  and  I  was  sensually  affected  by  her 
great  fleshly  attractions.  I  even  discovered 
that  I  was  jealous  of  her,  and  found  myself 
trying  to  imagine  what  she  might  be  doing. 
I  naturally  enough  believed  that  she  would  of 
course  be  faithful,  as  she  had  promised.  Her 
sudden  miserable  outburst  on  the  previous 
evening  told  me  that  she  would  consider  her- 
self fortunate  in  having  found  a  helper  in  her 
trouble,  and  that  her  life  had  been  the  outcome 
of  necessity  and  not  of  choice.  And  yet  I 
would  very  much  have  liked  to  know  where  she 
was.  I  did  guess,  as  was  indeed  probable, 
that  she  was  out  on  a  shopping  expedition, 
perhaps  at  some  distance  where  there  are  cheap 
emporia  of  woman's  wear.  I  had  especially 
entailed  on  her  the  necessity  of  making  herself 
smart,  and  had  given  her  what  I  believed  to 
be  a  sufficient  sum  for  that  purpose.  I  also 
knew  that  such  places  existed  in  suburban  or 
semi-suburban     localities,    as    Kilburn,     Bays- 


70  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

water,  and  Brixton,  and  I  concluded  that,  were 
my  surmise  correct,  she  would  be  back  by 
about  ten  o'clock. 

And  so  I  wandered  about,  thinking  of  this 
and  many  other  things  ;  of  my  father  and  of 
Miss  Tennant,  who  was  supposed  to  be  setting 
her  cap  more  and  more  steadily  at  him  ;  of 
Winifred,  and  of  Captain  Abinger,  whom  I 
instintively,  for  I  had  no  reason,  disliked  the 
more  I  thought  of  him  ;  and  from  Captain 
Abinger  it  was  an  easy  transition  to  Mrs.  St. 
John-Elliot.  She  fascinated  me  with  a  power 
quite  different  from  that  which  Nelly  exerted. 
Nelly  was,  to  my  mind,  a  mere  simplicity  ; 
Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot  a  complexity.  It  was 
strawberry  jam  against  caviar. 

Ten  was  struck  out  by  a  neighbouring  clock, 
and  I  hastened  back  to  Nelly's  lodgings.  She 
had  not  yet  returned. 

I  was  bitterly  disappointed,  and  the  old 
pangs  of  jealousy  made  themselves  felt  again  in 
me.  I  tried  to  soothe  them  by  inventing  a 
number  of  perfectly  reasonable  excuses,  but  the 
application   of   such    salv^   did    not   really   kill 


or  rrtn  ^\ 


T^TTVT'q 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  71 

the  pain.  All  I  could  do  was  to  go  back  to  the 
Scovells,  after  leaving  a  note  to  say  that  I 
should  call  for  her  at  ten  in  the  morning. 

On  arriving  at  the  house  I  was  sincerely 
glad  to  find  Scovell  out.  I  had  thought  over 
the  matter,  and  decided  to  say  nothing  to  him 
as  to  what  I  had  been  doing.  Indeed,  I  had 
not  told  him  where  I  was  going,  framing  my 
words  so  as  to  leave  it  to  be  inferred  that  the 
friend  whom  I  was  going  to  see  was  a  man.  I 
was  glad  I  had  done  so  now,  as  I  felt  a  sense  of 
wounded  vanity  in  the  idea  of  telling  him  that 
I  had  not  seen  Nelly. 

When  he  returned  he  said  nothing.  Colonel 
and  Mrs.  Scovell  went  off  to  bed  at  twelve  as 
usual,  and  he  and  I  sat  up  in  the  billiard-room 
smoking,  looking  at  the  evening  papers,  and 
occasionally  making  some  casual  remark. 

Suddenly  Scovell  dropped  the  paper  he  had 
been  reading,  looked  straight  at  me,  and  said, 
''  Well,  did  you  see  her  ?  " 

"  Who  ?  "  I  answered  evasively. 

"  Your  girl  that  you  went  to  see — of  course 
jQU  had  to  see  her." 


^^2  ^  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOU 

"  I  didn't  tell  you  I  was  going." 

I  was  fencing  with  this  question,  as  I  had  not 
made  up  my  mind  whether  to  tell  him  the 
truth  or  not. 

He  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
laughed. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  saw  her."  I  had  to  lie  for 
mortification.  There  was  really  no  possible 
reason  why  I  should  not  have  been  quite 
candid,  except  a  ridiculous  dictate  of  vanity. 

"  Then  I  was  mistaken,"  he  said,  and  picked 
up  the  paper. 

Once  more  I  was  pricked  in  my  tender  spot. 
I  knew  that  there  was  something  behind  his 
remark. 

"  What  about  ? "  I  asked,  with  an  air  of 
indifference. 

"  Nothing;  only  I  thought  I  saw  her  in 
Piccadilly.  It  was  my  mistake,  and  the  girl 
I  saw  was  dressed  very  differently  from  the  one 
you  met  last  night." 

His  reason  for  his  disbelief  was  not  so  con- 
vincing to  me.  It  was  only  too  probable  that 
Nelly  would  have  been  dressed  very  differently. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOU  '    73 

for  she  was  none  too  smart  last  night.  I 
forbore  to  question  Scovell  further,  but  deter- 
mined to  satisfy  my  doubts  on  the  morrow 
when  I  should  see  Nellie. 

At  ten  o'clock  I  arrived  at  her  lodging,  and 
found  her  dressed,  or  nearly  so — for  a  woman 
has  a  wonderful  deal  to  complete  after  she 
appears  to  a  simple  man  to  be  dressed — in 
anticipation  of  my  visit. 

"  I  said  to  myself  that  I  hadn't  ought  to 
keep  you  waiting,"  she  said,  with  a  delightful 
mixture  of  archness  and  bad  grammar.  She 
looked  charming,  and  I  wanted  to  kiss  her,  but 
I  had  determined  to  exhibit  no  weakness  till  I 
had  ascertained  the  truth. 

"  You  weren't  in  last  night,"  I  said  indif- 
ferently. 

"  Oh,  I  was  that  sorry,  Horace,  you  can't 
tell!  "  she  replied  with  an  air  of  candour  that 
was  most  convincing.  "  You  didn't  say  you 
was  coming,  and  I  was  so  happy  meeting  you 
again  and  all  that,  I  couldn't  keep  to  myself,  I 
wanted  to  tell  someone  so  bad,  and  I  went  to 
see  my  little  friend,  the  one,  you  know,  that  I 


74  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

first  went  to  live  with  when  I  came  out  of  the 
hospital.     She  hves  down  at  Battersea/' 

This  was  such  an  exceedingly  natural  ex- 
planation, and  was  spoken  so  openly,  without 
a  suspicion  of  concealment,  that  I  was  quite 
convinced,  and  called  myself  a  jealous  ass  for 
my  suspicions. 

I  determined  in  future  to  take  a  better  view 
of  woman's  nature,  and  not  to  be  misled  by  the 
misogyny  of  my  too  cautious  cousin  Wynne, 
who  was  always  ready  to  impute  hidden 
motives  to  all  that  women,  and,  for  the  matter 
of  that,  men,  did  or  said. 

Shortly  afterwards  we  drove  to  Williamson's, 
the  agent,  and  were  shown  into  the  inner 
sanctum  at  once.  As  we  passed  through  the 
crowd,  much  the  same  crowd,  we  were  objects 
of  greater  curiosity  than  ever.  The  appearance 
of  Nelly,  who  looked  very  smart,  with  me  made 
a  marked  difference  in  the  looks  that  were  cast 
at  us.  It  was  the  women  this  time  that  looked 
suspicious  and  defiant,  and  the  men  who 
plumed  themselves  and  gazed  with  patent 
interest. 


'A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  7$^ 

The  business  with  Williamson  did  not  take 
long.  He  took  in  Nelly  with  a  quick  and 
appreciative  glance  as  we  entered,  and  began 
immediately 

"  Exceedingly  fortunate,  Mr.  Manners  ;  very 
fortunate,  I  may  say,"  unaware  of  the  anti- 
climax. "  They  are  just  putting  a  new 
burlesque  into  rehearsal  at  the  Melpomeen " 
(the  good  man  was  not  a  Greek  scholar),  "  and 
I  think  I  can  promise  the  young  lady  an 
engagement.  If  you  will  kindly  take  this  card, 
my  dear,  and  ask  to  see  Mr.  Thompson,  I 
fancy  it  will  be  all  right." 

We  made  our  exit. 

"  You  will  stay  with  me,  won't  you,  Horace  ? 
I  shall  be  awfully  nervous,"  said  Nelly. 

We  found  the  stage  door  of  the  Melpomene 
with  some  difficulty — it  was  hidden  most 
securely  round  a  corner  in  a  back  street. 

We  entered,  and  found  immediately  inside  a 
very  small  stuffy  room  divided  from  the  passage 
by  a  half-door.  Inside  sat  a  surly-looking  old 
man  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  reading  the  paper.  As 
he  made  no  attempt  to  move  I  said  loudly, — 


^6  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"  I  want  to  see  Mr.  Thompson  if  he  is  in 
the  theatre." 

He  looked  at  me,  and  without  answering 
rang  a  bell.  He  waited  a  minute,  and  then 
rang  again.  He  rose  slowly,  and  with  a 
muttered  remark  about  "  that  Jones,"  offered 
to  go  and  find  Mr.  Thompson  himself  if- 
possible. 

When  he  was  gone  we  amused  ourselves  by 
looking  at  the  numerous  notices  pasted  up  on 
the  walls.  Nelly  took  an  excited  interest  in 
them.     Suddenly  she  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Look,  Horace  ;  just  read  this." 

I  read — 

"  Ladies  receiving  a  less  salary  than  30^.  are 
not  expected  to  come  to  the  theatre  in  their 
own  broughams." 

Our  amusement  was  interrupted  by  the 
return  of  the  old  man,  who  asked  us  to  "  step 
this  way."  Up  some  dingy  stone  steps, 
between  whitewashed  brick  walls,  we  went 
across  the  wings  of  the  stage,  where  a  number 
of  carpenters  stood  while  one  was  shouting 
out  directions  to  someone  above  about  raising 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOU  ^j'j^ 

a  sky-border;  through  an  iron  door,  up  and 
down  more  steps,  and  so  into  the  office  of  Mr. 
Thompson. 

Mr.  Thompson  was  a  large  man,  with  a  loud, 
familiar  air,  a  red  face,  and  a  black  moustache. 
He  welcomed  us  as  if  he  had  known  us  both 
a  considerable  time. 

•  "  Sit  down,"  he  said,  "  I  sha'n't  be  a  minute," 
and  he  went  on  writing  at  a  table.  Before  him 
on  the  wall  hung  a  looking-glass,  and  chancing 
to  look  up,  I  saw  that  he  was  taking  stock 
of  Nelly  in  the  glass  as  he  licked  a  large 
envelope. 

"  Yes,  I  think  we  have  something  for  you," 
he  said,  facing  round  suddenly.  "  Stand  up, 
my  dear,  a  moment.     Thank  you." 

He  looked  Nelly  up  and  down. 

"  You  want  to  put  on  tights,  eh,  Miss  Elaine 
Soyer  ?  '  Soyer '  sounds  like  something  good 
to  eat,  don't  it  ?  " 

I  had  flattered  myself  that  it  was  rather 
a  good  stage  perversion  of  Ellen  Sawyer. 

"  Too  many  cooks  spoil  the  broth,"  he  went 
on,  "  but  we  could  do  with  a  few  more  Soyers 


78  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

like  you.  Ha  !  ha  ! "  He  seemed  eminently 
pleased  at  his  joke.  Nelly  of  course  didn't  see 
it,  but  laughed. 

"  Got  good  legs  ?  "   he  said 

"  I  think  so,"  Nelly  answered,  laughing  ;  and 
to  my  surprise  lifted  up  her  dress,  and  showed 
a  quantity  of  elegant  lingerie  and  a  very  shapely 
silk  stocking  as  far  as  the  knee. 

He  pinched  her  calf.  "  All  your  own,  I  see. 
I'd  have  taken  your  word  for  it,  my  dear,  but, 
as  you  say,  seeing  is  believing.  Not  that  it 
much  matters;  padding  does  just  as  well  if  it's 
well  done." 

I  was  a  little  disconcerted  at  this  scene. 
Nelly  was  not,  which  gave  me  some  cause  for 
meditation  and  disappointment.  I  did  not 
understand  how,  if  her  story  were  true,  she  had 
got  rid  of  her  natural  girlish  modesty  so 
quickly.  I  put  it  down  to  the  fact  that  excite- 
ment had  got  into  her  head  like  champagne. 

"  Can  you  sing  ?  " 

Nelly  said  she  could  by  ear,  but  not  very  well 
from  music. 

"  That's  all  right.     Mr.  Kaufmann  will  be  here 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  79 

to-morrow  when  we  try  voices.  If  you  do — I 
think  you  will — I'll  engage  you  at  two  guineas 
a  week.  We  shall  have  the  contracts  ready 
to-morrow  for  signature.  I  shall  be  seeing  Mr. 
Williamson  before  then.  I  can't  say  for 
certain,  but,"  here  he  looked  straight  at  me, 
**  we  might  have  a  speaking  part,  one  or  two 
lines,  to  offer  you.  You  understand  ;  I  don't 
know,  but  we  might." 

I  bowed  slightly  to  indicate  that  I  understood 
his  meaning  ;  and  Nelly,  with  her  most  tempt- 
ing look — it  was  tempting  and  gave  me  another 
little  pang — said, — 

"  Oh,  please  do,  Mr.  Thompson  !  " 

On  leaving  the  theatre  I  proposed  luncheon. 
We  drove  round  by  way  of  Williamson's  office, 
and  leaving  Nelly  in  the  cab,  I  went  in  alone. 

When  I  came  out  I  told  Nellie  that  I 
thought  she  might  count  on  that  speaking  part. 
The  figure  had  been  pretty  stifif,  but  it  was 
worth  it. 

"  You  darling  Horace,  I  owe  you  everything, 
you  dear,  dear  boy.  If  we  were  anywhere  else 
I'd  kiss  you  a  hundred  times  !  " 


8o  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"It's  nothing,  Nell,"  I  said.  "I  still  owe 
you  a  very  great  deal.  I  can't  forget  that  I  am 
responsible  for  all  that  has  happened  to  you. 
But  promise  me  one  thing,  dear,  only  one." 

"  What  is  it  ?  I'll  promise  anything,  any- 
thing in  the  world." 

"  Promise  me  that  from  this  time  you  will 
run  straight.  I  will  always  look  after  you. 
You  won't  deceive  me,  play  the  fool  with  me 
and  yourself  too,  will  you  ?  " 

Nellie's  grey  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  You  don't  think  I'd  do  anything  like  that, 
surely  ?  I  know  I've  been  an  awful  bad  girl, 
but  I  never  will  again  for  your  sake,  dear." 

"  Promise  me,  then." 

"  Oh,  I  do,  I  do  !  "  she  said,  with  an  impulsive 
sob. 

And  I  fully  believe  she  meant  it. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ThK  May  term  passed  as  delightfully  as  it  can 
only  pass  to  a  young  man  in  his  first  year  at 
the  University.  I  had  only  two  things  to 
trouble  me.  First,  that  I  was  in  for  my 
"  Honour  Mods."  examination,  which  meant 
that  I  had  to  attend  lectures  ;  and  the  second 
that  I  began  to  discover  that  a  thousand  a 
year  was  not  the  large  income  for  a 
young  man  which  I  had  supposed  it  to  be  a 
year  ago.  As  a  matter  of  fact  I  found  myself 
getting  awfully  short  af  cash,  while  my  bills 
were  mounting  up  at  a  great  rate.  For  the 
latter  I  cared  little,  as  I  was  not  likely  to  be 
pressed  for  a  long  time  to  come,  and  I  had 
imbibed  enough  of  the  Scovell  philosophy  to 
make  me  quite  callous  on  this  point. 


82  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

But  shortness  of  ready  money  was  a  different 
matter.  Apart  from  the  fact  that  I  did  not 
intend  to  be  beaten  in  the  matter  of  pace  by 
my  companions  at  "  the  House,"  which  in 
itself  made  a  hole  in  my  finances,  Nelly  had 
been,  and  still  was,  a  considerable  drain  on  me. 
She  had  her  engagement  and  her  two  guineas 
a  week,  it  was  true,  but  I  had  to  supplement 
this  to  a  pretty  tune  to  enable  her  to  maintain 
her  position.  Then  my  sister  was  coming  up 
for  "  Commemoration."  She  was  to  be 
chaperoned  by  the  St.  John-Elliots,  with  whom 
she  had  become  very  friendly,  as  my  father  did 
not  wish  to  come  himself.  He  objected  actually 
to  Winifred  coming,  as  he  said  it  would  disturb 
me  and  might  imperil  my  class  in  the  examina- 
tion. However,  upon  my  assurance  that  I  was 
certain  to  get  a  "  first,"  he  gave  way  so  far, 
especially  as  the  examination  would  then  be 
over. 

Delighted  as  I  was,  I  saw  that  it  would  put 
me  to  a  large  out-of-pocket  expense,  which  had 
to  be  provided  for. 

At  this  very  time,  then,  an  incident  occurred 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  83 

which  compelled  me  to  take  a  step  which  I 
had  made  every  endeavour  to  avoid  if  pos- 
sible. 

I  received  an  endearing,  despairing  letter 
from  Nelly  one  morning.  Through  the  de- 
fection of  one  of  the  principals,  the  opportunity 
was  open  to  her  of  getting  a  much  more  im- 
portant part,  which  she  said  might  be  the 
making  of  her,  as  she  was  sure  she  had  a 
talent  for  the  stage.  To  do  her  justice  this 
belief  appeared  well  founded.  She  begged  and 
prayed  of  me  to  enable  her  to  take  it,  but  it 
would  have  to  be  "  worked."  However,  she 
believed,  nay,  was  certain,  that  a  hundred 
pounds  would  "  do  the  trick." 

I  had  seen  enough  of  the  back  stairs  of  ^'the 
profession  "  to  make  me  credit  her  statement, 
and  to  perceive  that,  if  I  could  manage  to  raise 
the  money,  it  would  in  the  long  run  be  both 
advantageous  and  economical.  If  "  Elaine 
Soyer "  should  succeed  in  hitting  the  public 
taste,  her  position  would  be  made,  and  she 
could  command  her  own  prices,  prices  high 
enough    to     satisfy     her    aspirations     to    the 


84  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

utmost,  as  I  supposed,  without  requiring 
financial  assistance  from  me.  The  pubHc  taste 
also  in  the  matter  of  stage  affairs  is  a  factor  of 
such  unknown  value,  so  eccentric,  so  whimsical, 
so  surprising,  that  had  Nelly  been  a  perfect 
fool,  it  was  impossible  to  predict  failure,  and 
had  she  been  a  born  genius,  it  would  have  been 
rash  to  foretell  success. 

These  considerations  made  it  clear  to  me 
that  the  experiment  was  well  worth  the  risk. 
Add  to  this  that  I  had  a  passion  for  her,  of 
the  frankly  physical  kind,  it  is  true,  which 
nevertheless  is  sufficient  to  make  men  com- 
mit the  wildest  extravagances  and  follies,  and 
that  my  youthful  vanity  would  feel  flattered, 
my  position  among  my  Varsity  associates  being 
magnified,  by  my  connection  with  a  new 
goddess  of  the  inferior  slopes  of  Parnassus 
(the  choice  classic  simile  was  Scovell's),  and 
it  will  be  seen  that  I  had  sufficient  inducement 
to  make  me  resolve  on  a  step  which  I  should 
have  thought  nothing  of  in  later  years,  when  it 
was  familiar,  but  which,  being  as  yet  unknown, 
induced  timorous  tremblings  of  spirit  when  I 
contemplated  it 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  85 

This  step  was  nothing  more  or  less  serious 
than  to  seek  the  assistance  of  a  professional 
money-lender  for  a  temporary  loan.  It  was  to 
be  a  temporary  loan  by  all  means.  It  was 
merely  to  carry  me  over  till  the  end  of  term, 
or  rather  till  the  end  of  Commemoration  week. 
And  then  during  the  Long  Vacation,  by  seeking 
out  some  quiet  retreat,  and  by  paying  visits  to 
houses  where  I  had  been  invited,  I  could 
recover  my  financial  position.  The  more  I 
considered  this  matter  in  this  common-sense 
light,  the  more  convinced  I  was  that  it  was  a 
perfectly  reasonable  and  justifiable  course  to 
take.  I  was  not  so  green  as  not  to  know  that 
the  sufficient  interest  of  sixty  per  cent,  was  re- 
quired by  those  amiable  gentlemen  who,  having 
spare  capital  to  invest,  are  always  willing  to 
assist  young  men  of  good  position,  even  though 
they  are  minors  ;  and  taking  into  consideration 
the  risk  run  of  an  occasional  bad  debt,  the 
interest  did  not  appear  unduly  exorbitant. 
It  was  clearly  necessary  for  me  to  have  some 
ready  money  to  go  on  with.  I  was  much  too 
proud  to  ask  for  a  loan  from  my  rich  friends, 


86  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

and  the  idea  of  applying  to  my  father  was  put 
away  as  soon  as  it  occurred.  I  could  only 
dimly  imagine  what  he  would  say,  and  I  knew 
it  would  be  refused.  I  should  have  had  to  lie 
freely  and  well  all  through  the  long  cross- 
examination  to  which  I  should  be  subjected, 
and  the  idea  of  doing  so  was  distasteful.  I  did 
not  overflow  in  the  abundance  of  my  Christian 
virtues,  but  I  held  firmly  to  the  idea  of  gentle- 
manly honour.  To  lie  to  my  father  was  an 
idea  quite  repugnant  to  me.  Yet  what  else 
could  I  have  done  ?  My  college  bills,  my 
tradesmen's  bills  !  The  only  and  very  remote 
possibility  of  the  success  of  my  application 
would  have  been  that  I  had  no  debts.  Even 
then  it  would  have  been  difBcult  to  account  for 
my  expenditure  :  the  Nelly  items  could  not 
appear  in  my  accounts.  Even  if  this  were  got 
over,  there  would  still  be  the  apparent  im- 
possibility of  explaining  the  need  for  a  sum  of 
about  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  to  meet 
the  expenses  of  my  sister's  visit,  which,  if 
I  took  her  to  every  possible  festivity  and 
entertained     her    and     her    friends     in     royal 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  87 

fashion,  could  not  have  cost  more  than  fifty- 
pounds. 

No  ;  most  clearly  this  course  was  impossible, 
and  there  was  only  one  open  to  me. 

I  had  invited  my  cousin  Percy  Wynne  to 
dine  with  me  in  "  hall "  one  evening.  I  do  not 
know  what  put  it  into  my  head,  but  it  occurred 
to  me  to  pump  him  on  the  question  of  money- 
lending,  not  because  I  imagined  that  he  was 
likely  ever  to  have  had  any  dealings  in  that  direc- 
tion, but  because  I  had  found  by  experience  that 
he  possessed  an  unusual  fund  of  worldly  infor- 
mation, and  his  acquaintance  with  some  of  the 
phases  of  the  hidden  life  of  society  had  often 
surprised  me  by  its  completeness  of  detail. 
Of  course  I  was  not  going  to  let  him  imagine 
for  one  moment  that  I  was  in  need  of  any 
assistance  of  a  cash  nature.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
he  would  never  have  dreamed  of  such  a  thing, 
as  he  was  always  instancing  me  as  a  lucky 
fellow  who  could  afford  to  do  without  debts, 
and  comparing  his  position,  not  enviously  but 
naturally,  as  one  who,  with  an  income  of  two 
hundred  altogether,  could  not  possibly  manage 


88  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

to  pay  for  everything  immediately,  sometimes 
leaving  his  tailor's  bill  unpaid  for  as  much  as 
six  months  at  a  time.  I  condoled  with  him, 
but  smiled  to  myself  at  his  puritanical  rectitude 
in  the  matter  of  his  tailor,  who,  as  Scovell  said, 
would  rather  not  be  paid,  being  a  Quixotic 
artist  who  sought  his  sole  reward  in  striving 
for  the  impossible  attainment  of  making  one  of 
God's  creatures  look  like  a  fashion  plate. 

In  my  rooms  after  "  hall,"  as  we  smoked  and 
idly  amused  ourselves  at  the  windows  by 
aiming  lumps  of  sugar  at  men  as  they  crossed 
the  Quad.,  I  said  to  him  suddenly,  apropos  of  a 
man  who  had  just  entered  No.  6  staircase, — 

"  Do  you  know  that  man  ?  Stupid  young 
fool  !  I  won't  mention  his  name.  I  will  tell 
you  something  about  him." 

"  What's  his  name  ?  "  said  Percy  absently, 
apparently  not  having  heard  all  my  remark. 

"  It  mightn't  matter,  but  as  this  is  a  private 
business  I  won't  name  him.  He  came  to  me 
the  other  day  to  ask  my  advice.  His  father 
strictly  limits  his  allowance,  and  as  he  wanted 
some  money  for  immediate  purposes  and  had 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  89 

run  short,  he  thought  of  going  to  old  Scarlett, 
the  money-lender.  I  advised  him  most  strongly 
to  do  nothing  of  the  sort.  I  said  he  didn't 
know  what  he  might  let  himself  into.  But  he 
said  he  thought  he  would  have  to,  as  there 
might  be  some  trouble  somewhere  if  he  couldn't 
raise  the  cash.  I  don't  know  what  the  result 
was." 

I  complimented  myself  on  the  way  I  had 
introduced  the  subject.  Needless  to  say  I  did 
not  know  the  man,  and  he  had  never  asked  me 
anything  at  all. 

"  Why  did  he  confide  in  you  ?  Are  you  great 
friends  ?  "  said  Percy. 

"  No,"  I  replied,  rather  troubled  what  to  say, 
"  that's  the  odd  thing  about  it.  I  hardly  know 
him." 

"  Yes,  that  is  odd,"  Percy  mused.  "  I  expect 
your  flourishing  condition  is  known,  and  he 
was  trying  to  tap  you  for  a  bit  ;  that  was  his 
way  of  introducing  the  subject.  Artful,  wasn't 
it  ?  "  Percy  laughed. 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  I  replied.  "  As  a  matter 
of  fact  I — er — I  offered  him  some  help,  but  he 


90  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

declined  it  with  such  obvious  annoyance  at 
the  idea  that  I  should  have  taken  it  for  a  hint 
that  I  felt  obliged  to  apologize  in  some  sort." 

"  You  advised  him  not  to  do  it  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  I  said  he  would  be  a  perfect 
fool  to  think  of  it." 

"  I  don't  know  that  you  were  quite  right  ;  it 
all  depends." 

I  was  quite  surprised  at  this  answer  from 
Percy.  Yet  it  pleased  me,  as  it  afforded  some 
support  to  the  reasons  which  I  had  suggested 
to  myself. 

"  Has  he  got  an  ample  allowance  ?  "  Percy 
continued,  "  Is  it  merely  a  temporary  and 
unexpected  embarrassment  ?  " 

"  Really,  old  man,  I  didn't  ask  him  such 
things.     I  couldn't.*' 

"  No,  perhaps  not  ;  but  it  would  make  all  the 
difference  between  folly  and  reason.  But  at 
least  you  know  whether  his  father  is  rich; 
whether  he  has  expectations  ?  " 

I  saw  that  I  had  better  know  something. 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  his  father  is  a  wealthy  man, 
and  he  is  the  only  son," 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  91 

"  In  that  case,"  Percy  replied,  "  I  don^t  see 
that  it  would  be  much  harm.  The  money- 
lender fellows  would  know  that,  and  though 
they  make  the  interest  pretty  stiff,  they  wouldn't 
press  him,  especially  if  he  kept  up  the  instal- 
ments regularly. 

"  You  know,"  Percy  continued,  "  it  is  only 
poor  men,  who  have  no  real  possibility  of  ever 
being  able  to  meet  the  capital  debt,  that  get 
pinched  by  the  Jews.  These  fellows  know  their 
own  business,  and  so  long  as  they  feel  reason- 
ably secure,  they  are  quite  willing  to  lend  out 
their  money  at  such  thundering  good  interest 
for  any  length  of  time.  I,  for  instance,  should 
be  a  fool  to  do  such  a  thing,  but  men  like  this 
man,  or  you,  would  be  quite  safe  ?  " 

"  And  yet,"  I  argued,  "  don't  you  think  it 
would  be  wiser  to  leave  it  alone,  or  get  the 
money  some  other  way  ?  " 

"As  to  the  first,  it  depends.  One  may  be 
placed  in  such  circumstances  by  accident  that 
one  must  have  money.  As  to  getting  it 
another  way,  after  all  it  is  a  perfectly  open 
business  transaction,  into  which  no  one  but  an 


92  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

idiot  goes  with  his  eyes  shut.  In  the  business 
world,  these  things  are  every-day  occurrences, 
and  business  could  not  be  carried  on  otherwise. 
The  biggest  houses  in  the  City  give  notes  and 
accept  bills  right  and  left.  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  this  is  on  the  whole  a  great  deal 
better  than  to  incur  debts  with  friends  or  rela- 
tions, which  has  most  disastrous  results  only 
too  often." 

I  say  that  I  was  at  first  surprised  at  the 
attitude  that  Percy  took.  But  his  remarks 
seemed  to  contain  so  much  common  sense  that 
I  was  on  the  verge  of  telling  him  of  my  own 
resolve.  But  I  did  not.  I  simply  dropped  the 
subject. 

The  next  day  I  went  to  Mr.  Scarlett's  office. 
He  was  a  pleasant,  quiet  old  man,  with  long 
white  Dundreary  whiskers  and  a  good  quantity 
of  hair  to  match.  He  was  quite  businesslike 
about  the  matter.  I  had  been  very  nervous  on 
entering,  for  I  was  going  into  the  unknown. 
But  his  manner  quickly  reassured  me,  and  I 
wondered  at  my  former  hesitation. 

He  asked  me  to  fill  up  a  form  which  asked 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  93 

replies  to  a  number  of  questions,  all  of  which  I 
answered  truly  and  easily,  except  two  :  these 
were  the  purpose  for  which  I  required  the 
money,  and  the  amount  of  my  personal  debts. 
I  invented  a  romance  about  both. 

He  looked  at  the  paper  when  I  had  finished. 

"  You  are  under  twenty-one,  I  see." 

"  Yes,"  I  repUed,  waiting  for  him  to  raise 
some  objection.     But  he  said  nothing  more. 

"  Father  alive  ?  "   he  asked. 

"  Yes,"  I  replied  again. 

"  Two  hundred  and  fifty  you  want  ?  " 

Again  I  affirmed  it. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  "  I  won't  keep  you 
longer  now.  Can  you  look  in  to-morrow  about 
this  time  ?  I  will  have  the  note  ready  for  you 
by  then.  Ah  !  by  the  way,  you  didn't  say  how 
you  would  like  to  repay  it." 

I  left  it  to  him,  whatever  was  usual. 

"  Shall  we  say  three  months,  by  three 
monthly  instalments,  then  ?  " 

I  acquiesced,  and  bade  him  good-bye. 

I  returned  at  the  appointed  time  on  the 
next  day.     He  greeted  me  with  a  cordial  nod. 


94  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

offered  me  a  cigar  (an  excellent  one)  and 
glass  of  champagne  (also  good),  then  laid 
before  me  a  bill  for  two  hundred  and  eighty- 
seven  pounds  ten  shillings,  repayable  by 
monthly  instalments  of  ninety-five  pounds 
sixteen  shillings  and  eightpence. 

This  amount  for  two  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  down  looked  wonderfully  reasonable. 

I  signed  the  bill  with  an  easy  conscience. 

"  If  at  any  time,"  he  added  with  a  polite  air, 
"  you  should  wish  to  carry  over  an  instalment 
or  anything  of  that  kind,  I  have  no  doubt  we 
can  arrange  it  for  you." 

I  thanked  him  for  the  information.  He 
handed  me  a  cheque  for  the  amount,  shook 
hands  cordially  with  me,  showed  me  to  the 
door,  and  it  was  done. 

It  seemed  the  simplest  way  of  getting  money 
in  the  world. 


I . 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

I  SHi^T^  Nelly  the  hundred  pounds  she  had 
asked  for,  and  was  shortly  rewarded  by  a  letter 
from  her  saying  that  she  had  managed  to  get 
the  part  and  had  made  a  hit  in  it.  Of  course 
she  sent  love  and  kisses,  and  called  me  by  all 
the  endearing  names  she  could  recollect  having 
come  across  in  her  romantic  reading.  I 
accepted  it  all  in  the  most  natural  manner, 
which  certainly  proved  that  I  had  more  vanity 
than  sense.  I  know  that  it  interfered  with  my 
reading  for  that  whole  evening,  for  when  I 
ought  to  have  been  grappling  with  a  stiff  bit 
of  bad  grammar  in  Thucydides,  I  found  myself 
gazing  in  mental  vision  on  Nelly's  graceful 
form  behind  the  footlights  from  the  front  row 
of  the  stalls,  and  went  on  in  imagination  to 
the  sequel,  the  waiting  at  the  stage  door,  the 


96  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

greeting,  the  supper,  and  all  the  rest  ;  to  be 
suddenly  and  most  unpleasantly  broken  by  the 
real  image  of  a  reading-lamp,  books,  papers, 
and  table. 

At  last  I  gave  up  reading,  and  delivered 
myself  completely  over  to  the  delightful  opium 
dreams  of  fancy  and  recollection. 

When  thinking  about  Nelly,  the  vision 
would  often  be  disturbed  by  the  unsought 
intrusion  of  another  face  into  which  Nelly*s, 
as  in  a  lantern  picture,  would  resolve.  This  I 
discovered  to  be  invariably  the  face  of  Mrs.  St. 
John-Elliot.  The  woman  had  fascinated  me, 
and  I  felt  a  fluttering,  fearful  joy  in  thinking 
that  I  should  see  her  again  shortly. 

To  speak  truly,  I  was  not  a  little  annoyed 
and  ashamed  at  the  constant  recurrence  of 
this  face.  I  had  then  some  moral  scruples 
left,  and  the  fact  that  she  was  a  married 
woman  entered  from  time  to  time  in  my 
dreams  with  a  chilling  horror  for  myself. 
Then  I  would  strike  the  table  in  anger,  get  up 
from  my  chair  and  walk  about  the  room  to 
throw    off   the    dreamy    state   in   which    I    felt 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  ^, 

it  was  not  good  for  me  to  indulge.  I  tried  to 
think  of  other  things,  of  Winifred,  of  my  work, 
and  smoked  cigarettes  furiously,  chewing  the 
ends  and  throwing  them  away  half-finished. 
But  it  was  all  to  no  purpose.  The  face 
continued  to  haunt  me,  and  at  last  I  ceased  to 
fight  against  it,  and  gave  myself  up  to  a 
condition  of  insensible  contemplation  which, 
had  it  been  directed  towards  the  realization  of 
the  perfect,  would  have  gained  for  me  in  the 
East  the  status  of  a  Mahatma.  I  cleared  the 
ground  to  start  with  by  imagining  Mrs.  St. 
John-Elliot  a  free  woman  and  myself  a  free 
man,  with  unbounded  means  and  magnificent 
capabilities,  making  of  her  a  goddess,  and  of 
myself  a  god,  or  at  least  a  hero.  What 
wonderful  events  and  scenes  there  were  in 
that  visionary  paradise  I  will  not  and  cannot 
describe.  I  might  have  attained  to  Nirvana 
had  not  the  morning  light  of  May,  as  it  made 
my  window  panes  bright  blue  and  my  lamp- 
light golden,  recalled  me  to  life. 

In  the  sunlit  glare  of  the  following  day  I 
called(  myself  a   fool  when   I   thought  of  my 


98  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

meditations  of  the  previous  night.  I  railed 
upon  the  fooHsh  fancy  which  had  transfigured 
and  glorified  a  very  ordinary  society  woman 
into  a  beatific  abstract  of  the  feminine,  and  I 
hoped,  or  said  I  hoped,  that  the  actual  vision 
of  the  person  would  dispel  at  once  and  for  ever 
an  imagination  as  unrighteous  as  it  was 
ridiculous.  Yet,  reason  with  myself  as  I  would 
in  this  manner,  I  could  not  rid  myself  of  the 
fascination  which  her  personality  exercised 
upon  me. 

This  state  of  mind  had  by  no  means  deserted 
me  when  I  went  in  for  my  "  schools."  More 
than  a  hundred  times  I  caught  my  attention 
straying  from  the  examination  paper  before  me 
to  a  prevision  of  that  day  when  I  should  again 
set  eyes  upon  this  woman  ;  and  though  I 
endeavoured  to  laugh  to  scorn  the  folly  which 
presumed  that,  allowing  that  I  was  attracted 
towards  her,  she  had  any  recollection  of  me  but 
as  a  callow  youth,  I  could  not  shake  off  the 
mental  condition  I  was  in. 

At  the  end  of  the  examination  I  felt  that  I 
had  not  done  well,  but  the  unpleasantness  of 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  99 

this  knowledge  was  relieved  from  immediate 
oppression  by  the  fact  that  many  weeks  must 
yet  elapse  before  my  shortcomings  were  made 
known  to  the  world  at  large,  and  to  my  father 
in  particular,  by  the  publication  of  the  Honours 
List. 

On  a  certain  Saturday  about  the  middle  of 
June,  I  found  myself  waiting  at  mid-day  on  the 
platform  of  the  ugly  cattle-shed  that  for  long 
did  duty  as  a  railway  station  in  the  not  unim- 
portant city  of  Oxford.  As  I  watched  the 
incoming  train  writhe  sinuously  and  restretch 
itself  as  it  crossed  the  points  outside  the  station,- 
a  fearful  trepidation  seized  upon  me.  I  flushed 
and  perspired  and  almost  ran  away  home  with 
the  invented  excuse  that  I  had  mistaken  the 
time.  It  was  the  first  time  since  I  was  a 
schoolboy — I  well  knew  that  feeling  on  going 
back  to  school — that  I  had  experienced  any- 
thing of  the  kind,  and  it  appeared  quite 
ridiculous.  Luckily,  before  my  fear  had  time 
to  act  on  my  will,  the  train  hustled  along  the 
platform,  drew  to  a  standstill,  and  emptied 
passengers  frpm   ^yery   door   on   to   the   CQH" 


100  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

siderable  crowd  already  waiting.  In  this  mass 
of  faces  stage  blindness  seized  me,  and  I  failed 
to  distinguish  one  person  from  another.  It  was 
whilst  gaping/ about  like  an  idiot  that  I  heard  a 
voice  say  quite  close  to  me, — 

"  Horace,  here  we  are." 

My  nervousness  had  gone  together  with  the 
torture  of  expectation.  I  was  face  to  face  with 
reality  now.  I  kissed  Winifred,  who  looked 
charming,  and  turned  to  greet  her  friends. 

"  So  good  of  you  to  take  this  trouble  about 
us,  Mr.  Manners,"  said  Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot, 
in  her  languid,  silvery  tones,  as  she  held  out 
her  hand.  "  I'm  afraid  you  must  have  thought 
us  a  great  nuisance.  We  are  always  a  nuisance 
to  our  friends,  aren't  we,  Douglas  ?  "  she  added, 
turning  to  her  husband. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  he  said  stupidly,  as  he 
shook  hands  with  me;  "ask  Abinger.  " 

It  was  then  for  the  first  time  that  I  saw,  with 
a  sense  of  annoyance  and  displeasure,  that 
Captain  Abinger  was  also  of  the  party. 

"  Hullo,  Manners,"  he  said,  familiarly,  "  you 
i^idn't  expect  to  see  me,  did  you  ?    I've  never 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  loi 

been  to  Oxford  during  the  Celebration — how 
do  you  call  it  ?  Ah  !  Commemoration — and 
Elliot  suggested  my  coming,  and  here  I  am." 

"  I'm  delighted  to  see  you  again,"  I  said, 
untruthfully.  ''  I  hope  you  will  make  use  of 
me  in  any  way  you  please." 

''  No,  no,  Manners  ;  I've  not  come  to 
victimize  you,  you  know.  I'm  just  going  to 
get  a  room  at  the  '  Mitre,'  and  take  my 
chance." 

I  was  about  to  protest,  when  a  porter  saved 
me  by  hurling  a  trunk  on  my  toes,  and  the 
luggage  scramble  began. 

The  St.  John-Elliots  and  Winifred  drove  off 
to  the  Randolph  Hotel,  where  I  promised  to 
call  for  them  after  luncheon  to  show  them  the 
various  sights  of  Christ  Church  and  anywhere 
else,  to  be  followed  by  tea  at  my  rooms. 

Captain  Abinger  left  his  traps  in  the  cloak 
room  and  asked  me  to  show  him  the  way  to 
the  "  Mitre,"  where  he  would  try  to  get  a  bed. 
I  was  obliged  to  assent,  and  we  walked  up 
together. 

He   asked   me   a   number   of   questions,   the 


I02  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

purpose  of  v/hich  was,  as  I  saw,  not  to  obtain 
information,  for  he  scarcely  troubled  about  the 
answer  I  gave,  but  to  interest  me  and  make  me 
talk.  I  could  not  help  resenting  the  obvious 
suggestion  in  all  our  conversation  that  I  was  a 
mere  boy  whom  he  desired  to  please.  This 
was,  of  course,  the  plain  truth,  but  it  is  a  truth 
which  a  young  man  of  nineteen  does  not  like 
to  have  thrust  before  him,  and  Captain  Abinger 
was  either  tactless,  careless,  or  malicious  in 
letting  it  appear.  Presently  he  changed  the 
conversation,  and  I  then  perceived  that  he  had 
entered  upon  the  body  of  his  subject,  the 
former  conversation  being  a  mere  preliminary. 
He  might  have  dispensed  with  it  in  the  manner 
of  the  translation  of  an  Eastern  letter  which 
runs,  "  After  compliments,  so  and  so,  and  so 
and  so." 

"  I  hear  your  father  hasn't  been  in  the  best  of 
health  lately,"  he  said. 

I  replied  that  that  was  so,  but  did  not 
suppose  it  was  a  thing  generally  known. 

"  Your  sister  mentioned  it,"  he  explained 
*'  I  suppose  it  is  nothing  seriovi§? " 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  103 

It  was  not,  as  far  as  I  was  aware.  Some  few 
months  ago  he  had  had  an  attack  of  influenza, 
and  his  present  condition  appeared  to  be  a 
kind  of  relapse  or  consequence. 

"Glad  to  hear  it.  The  'flu'  is  a  funny 
thing  ;  very  like  the  Denghi  fever,  you  know. 
I've  seen  a  lot  of  it  in  India.  It  som^etimes 
appears  to  collapse  an  elderly  man.  However, 
I'm  very  glad  to  hear  he  is  all  right  again." 

I  had  not  said  so,  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
he  was  not  :  he  was  suffering  from  a  kind  of 
nervous  break-down.  I  did  not  see  any  harm 
in  saying  as  much. 

"  Sorry  to  hear  that.  He'll  have  to  keep 
quiet  and  not  have  anything  to  annoy  or  worry 
him  for  a  while.  That's  the  only  thing  wanted 
to  put  a  case  of  that  sort  right." 

I  said  that  I  did  not  think  he  could  have  any 
worries. 

"  You  and  your  sister  are  the  only  children, 
I  believe  ?  "  he  said,  interrogatively. 

I  affirmed  the  belief. 

"  Lucky,"  he  replied,  "  not  to  have  any 
young  children  about.  You  two  don't  cause  hiixi 


104  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

much  trouble,  I'll  be  bound.  Has  he  much 
business,  because  that's  a  bad  thing  in  such  a 
case  ?  " 

My  father  had  some  time  ago  resigned  certain 
directorships  which  he  held,  and  given  up  any 
active  part  in  politics. 

"  Quite  right,  too.  Companies  and  politics 
are  two  examples  of  other  people's  business,  in 
which  if  one  interferes  one  gets  no  good  and 
may  burn  one^s  fingers.  But  I  referred  to  his 
own  business." 

My  father's  estates  were  under  the  manage- 
ment of  a  good  steward,  and  he  never  dealt  in 
speculative  investments. 

"  Oh,  that's  much  the  best  way  of  doing 
things,  I  think.     Sensible  man,  your  father." 

I  wondered  at  the  time  why  Captain  Abinger 
took  so  much  interest  in  my  father,  but  I  put 
it  down  to  a  desire  to  present  himself  favour- 
ably to  me.  He  was  practically  a  stranger,  as 
I  had  only  met  him  once  at  Mrs.  St.  John- 
Elliot's,  but  though  I  wondered  why  he  should 
concern  himself  so  much  in  the  matter,  I  did 
not  see  any  especial  motive. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  105 

By  this  time  we  ha<i  arrived  at  the  Mitre 
Hotel,  where  Captain  Abinger  succeeded  in 
obtaining  a  room.  He  asked  me  to  lunch 
I  with  him,  but  I  excused  myself.  At  the  same 
time,  as  an  act  of  courtesy  in  return,  I  could 
not  do  less  than  ask  him  to  come  round  to  my 
rooms  to  tea  that  afternoon.  With  some  show 
of  reluctance  he  accepted  the  invitation,  and 
wishing  him  good-bye  for  the  present,  I  de- 
parted to  luncheon  in  college,  after  which  I 
went  round  to  the  Randolph  Hotel. 

I  found  the  St.  John-Elliots  and  Winifred 
ready  to  come  out,  and  we  started  together. 
As  a  natural  consequence,  because  the  pave- 
ments are  not  too  wide  and  were  full  of  people, 
we  fell  into  pairs,  Mr.  St.  John-Elliot  walking 
behind  with  Winifred.  Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot 
was  delightfully  amiable  and  took  a  real  or 
well-feigned  interest  in  all  she  saw.  I  then 
realized  that  the  fascination  which  I  had 
struggled  against  vainly,  and  which  I  hoped 
would  be  dispelled  in  seeing  her  again,  was  all 
the  more  indubitably  there.  Her  proximity 
exercised  a  kind  of  physical  mesmerism  on  me, 


io6  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

and  filled  me  with  an  indefinable  pleasure  that 
I  had  never  before  experienced  in  the  presence 
of  any  other  woman. 

We  talked  nothing  but  the  simplest  common- 
places, yet  she  had  a  way  of  making  the  most 
trite  observation  sound  sweet  and  allusive,  as 
though  it  were  entirely  personal  to  myself.  I 
knew  then  that  I  was  treading  on  dangerous 
ground. 

I  had  invited  my  cousin  Wynne  and  Scovell 
to  tea,  and  they  came,  together  with  Captain 
Abinger. 

The  universities  are  about  the  only  places  in 
England  where,  in  social  entertainments  of  all 
kinds  the  men  outnumber  the  women,  for 
which  reason  women  are  always  pleased  with 
their  visits.  They  have  couriers  in  abundance 
and  to  spare,  and  can  accordingly  pick  and 
choose,  and  be  on  and  off  at  their  own  sweet 
wills  ;  nor  do  they,  as  a  rule,  forbear  to  take  full 
advantage  of  this  fact. 

In  my  rooms  Winifred  had  Scovell  and 
Captain  Abinger  as  cavaliers.  Mrs.  St.  John- 
Elliot  ha4  Wynne  ^n4  myself,    Wynne,  with 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  107 

most  commendable  tact,  after  being  properly 
polite,  retired  to  talk  to  Mr.  St.  John-Elliot,  so 
that  I  was  left  with  Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot  to  my- 
self. I  was  duly  sensible  of  the  generosity  of 
my  cousin's  behaviour,  and  my  opinion  of  him 
was  greatly  heightened.  Nor  did  Mrs.  St. 
John-Elliot  seem  to  appreciate  it  less.  She  sat 
with  me  in  a  window  seat,  enclosing  in 
commonplaces  gems  of  greater  value  to  me  than 
a  pearl  in  an  oyster  shell.  Needless  to  say  I 
was  in  the  seventh  heaven,  or  eighth  if  there  be 
one. 

Scovell  at  first  stuck  to  his  position  by 
Winifred,  with  Captain  Abinger  on  the  other 
side,  but  at  length  he  moved,  and  went  to  talk 
with  Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot  and  Wynne.  I  looked 
for  the  reason  of  this,  and  saw  that  Winifred 
and  Abinger  were  engaged  in  an  animated  and 
pleasant  conversation,  where  his  somewhat 
worn  gallantries  were  being  accepted  by  her  as 
impromptus  of  sparkling  originality. 

I  made  up  my  mind  to  ask  Winifred  a 
question  on  the  first  opportunity.  The  chance 
came  as  they  were  returning  to  the  Hotel.      I 


io8  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

found  myself  with  Winifred  alone  for  a  few 
moments. 

"Do  you  like  Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot?"  I 
asked. 

"  She's  perfectly  delightful.  Bella  and  I  are 
great  friends." 

"It  has  come  to  '  Bella/  has  it  ?  "  I  said. 

"  Don't  you  like  her,  then  ?  " 

"  I  think  she  is  very  nice." 

"  She  is  always  talking  about  you." 

My  vanity  was  absurdly  flattered,  but  I 
continued, — 

"You  seem  to  get  on  with  Captain 
Abinger." 

"I  think  he's  very  nice,"  she  replied  in  my 
own  phrase. 

"  I  don't." 

"  Oh,  why  not,  Horace  ?  "  she  said  quickly., 
**  What  don't  you  like  in  him  ?  " 

"  I  don't  quite  know,  but  there  is  something 
about  him  that — " 

"That  what?" 

"It  is  difficult  to  say— that  I  don't  Hke. 
That  is  as  near  as  I  can  get  it." 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  109 

"  You  won't  say  that  when  you  know  him 
better." 

"  As  well  as  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  as  well  as  I  know  him." 

"That  will  be  never,  I  hope,  Winifred,"  I 
said,  looking  straight  at  her.  "  I  believe  you 
are  fond  of  him." 

"  Do  you  ? "  She  returned  my  gaze  quite 
steadily,  with  a  slightly  defiant  smile.  "  You 
can  believe  what  you  please,  my  boy." 

I  never  saw  my  sister  like  that  before. 

It  was  the  nearest  thing  to  a  quarrel  we  had 
had  for  years. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

On  the  next  day,  "  Show  Sunday,"  as  it  is 
called,  I  took  Winifred  and  the  St.  John 
Elliots  for  a  half  hour's  promenade  in  the 
Broad  Walk.  "  Show  Sunday  "  had  even  at 
that  time  lost  most  of  its  ancient  glory,  as 
with  the  growth  of  democratic  ideas  the 
"  town "  had  not  forborne  to  usurp  the 
privileges  hitherto  supposed  to  belong  exclu- 
sively to  the  "gown,"  and  had  reduced  the 
promenade  to  a  very  second-class  afifair,  so  that 
it  was  only  for  a  short  half-hour  that  the 
aristocracy  of  the  University,  the  doctors  of 
divinity,  music  and  medicine,  and  civil  law, 
with  their  wives,  families  and  friends,  deigned 
to  sacrifice  themselves  on  the  altar  of  old 
custom. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  iir 

Our  party  divided  itself  as  usual.  Mr.  St. 
John-Elliot  did  not  accompany  us,  having  gone 
to  visit  several  old  'varsity  friends,  musty-fusty 
dons,  as  we  undergraduates  considered  them, 
and  therefore  Captain  Abinger  was  once  more 
Winifred's  cavalier.  Scovell,  strangely  enough, 
had  declined  to  come  when  I  asked  him.  For 
myself  I  confess  that  I  felt  no  little  pride  in 
walking  with  Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot. 

There  was  no  doubt  that  she  was  strikingly 
graceful  and  beautiful,  and  wore  her  clothes, 
which  were  triumphs  of  the  costumier's  art,  in 
a  manner  to  make  all  the  other  women  envious. 
Everyone  looked  at  her,  the  women  furtively 
and  hostilely,  the  men  openly  and  admiringly, 
while  all  the  fellows  that  I  knew  bowed  in  their 
most  exaggerated  manner,  evidently  in  the  hope 
of  attracting  my  companion's  notice,  and  with 
some  idea  of  being  specially  civil  to  me,  in  the 
hope  of  thereby  benefiting  by  an  introduction 
at  the  balls  and  garden  parties  of  the  next  three 
days.  We  did  not  talk  much.  Mrs.  St.  John- 
Elliot  asked  questions  about  this  person  and 
that  person  whom  we  passed,  and  I  told  her, 


112  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOD 

with  truth  when  I  knew,  and  with  plausibiHty, 
when  I  did  not  know.  But  it  was  also  evident 
to  me  that  her  questions  were  mechanical, 
either  from  habit,  or  because  something  else 
occupied  her  mind.     Then  she  said, — 

"  I  was  so  awfully  sorry  to  hear  from 
Winifred  that  your  father  was  not  well." 

I  said  it  was  very  kind  of  her  to  take  so 
much  interest. 

"  Winifred  and  I,"  she  went  on,  "  have  be- 
come such  friends  that  I  feel  as  if  I  knew  you 
all.  Do  you  know,  I  have  very  nearly  half  a 
dozen  times  already  called  you  Horace  instead 
of  Mr.  Manners.  It  seems  so  ridiculous  to  say 
Mr.  Manners  when  I  call  your  sister  Winnie." 

"  Yes,  I  wish  you  would  not.  I  feel  how 
absurd  it  is,  Mrs.  St.  John-ElHot,"  I 
answered. 

She  laughed. 

"  But,  you  know,  if  I  call  you  Horace,  you 
will  have  to  call  me  Bella." 

This  was  indeed  getting  on,  I  thought. 

"  But — "  I  said,  and  stoij^ped. 

She  guessed  my  meaning. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  113 

"  Mr.  St  John-EUiot  calls  your  sister — 
Winifred.  Are  you  thinking  he  would 
mind  ?  " 

I  hardly  knew  how  to  answer.  I  was  think- 
ing that,  it  was  true,  but  I  did  not  dare  say  so, 
as  the  thought  implied  that  I  wished  to  occupy 
a  place  with  regard  to  her  that  might  not  meet 
with  her  husband's  approval,  and  I  was  not 
certain  how  she  might  like  it.  But  she  saved 
me  all  further  troubling. 

*'If  I  permit  it,"  she  continued,  with  a 
glance  at  me  that  spoke  volumes,  "  Mr.  St. 
John-Elliot  will  have  to  permit  it  also — 
Horace." 

"  Of  course,"  I  said. 

She  looked  me  full  in  the  face,  and  with 
mischief  in  her  eye,  said  very  low,— 

"  Bella  ?  " 

"  Bella,"  I  said  with  difficulty,  while  I  felt  the 
blood  rush  into  my  face. 

She  laughed  a  little  low  laugh.  My  head  was 
in  a  whirl,  and  the  wildest  imaginations  filled 
my  thoughts.  The  next  thing  I  remembered 
clearly  was  her  saying, — 


114  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"—But  I  hear  he  is  better  now." 

It  was  a  long  moment  before  I  realized  that 
she  had  gone  back  to  the  beginning  of  the 
conversation,  and  was  speaking  of  my  father. 
I  had  had  a  letter  that  morning  to  say  he  was 
not  quite  so  well  again.     I  told  her  this. 

"  I    am    so    sorry/'    she    said    impressively,     | 
almost   too   impressively   considering   the   con- 
dition of  our  acquaintance. 

Thinking  over  the  conversation  a  hundred 
times  in  my  rooms  that  night,  I  especially 
noticed  one  or  two  things.  First,  that  she 
never  spoke  of  "  my  husband,"  but  always  of 
Mr.  St.  John-Elliot,  though  exactly  what  the 
distinction  might  be  I  could  not  fathom. 
Next,  the  remarkable  coincidence  between  her 
conversation  and  that  of  Captain  Abinger.  I 
could  only  regard  it  as  coincidence,  because  I 
failed  to  see  any  possible  reason  why  these 
taking  a  similar  interest  in  our  family  affairs, 
two  should  have  had  any  mutual  cause  for 
taking  a  similar  interest  in  our  family  afifairs, 
except    the    one    assigned,    namely,    that    both 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  115 

regarded  myself  and  my  sister  with  feelings  of 
friendship. 

I  was  not  so  green,  of  course,  as  not  to  see 
that  there  might  be  a  reason  why  Captain 
Abinger  should  display  an  interest  in  my 
father,  for  it  was  only  too  plain  that  he  had 
taken  a  great  fancy  to  Winifred,  and  she  to 
him.  I  could  not  approve  her  choice,  though 
this  was  obvious,  for  Winifred  was  undoubtedly 
a  very  pretty  and  attractive  girl.  It  was 
therefore  clear  that  the  Captain  wished  for  a 
favourable  introduction  to  my  father,  and  was 
working  to  that  end. 

But  the  same  reasons  could  scarcely  exist 
with  Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot.  If  she  had  taken 
a  liking  to  me,  as  I  flattered  myself,  I  failed  to 
see  what  advantage  there  could  be  in  becoming 
more  intimate  with  my  family.  A  young  man 
is  not  like  a  girl — he  is  at  liberty  to  go  where 
he  chooses,  and  probably  the  less  his  relations 
know  of  his  movements  and  his  friends  the 
better  for  him.  Coming  to  no  conclusion  on 
the  subject,  I  gave  it  up  for  the  present  to 
await  further  developments.       The  first  shock 


ii6  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

to  my  natural  scruples  having  been  overcome, 
I  ceased  to  regard  it  as  in  any  way  impropeii 
that  I  should  be  seriously  permitting  myself 
to  fall  in  love  with  a  married  woman.  I  did 
not  really  think  about  it  much,  and,  if  I  did,  I 
argued  to  myself  that  it  was  probably  the  safest 
thing  that  I  could  do,  as  the  limit  to  which  I 
should  be  permitted  to  go  would  be  soon 
reached  ;  while  as  to  the  possible  destruction 
of  my  own  peace  of  mind,  I  was  never  fond  of 
looking  clearly  to  future  consequences,  believ- 
ing that  in  a  general  way  things  always  came 
out  all  right  in  the  end. 

The  next  three  days  passed  in  the  usual 
whirl.  We  went  to  everything,  the  University 
Ball,  the  Masonic  Ball,  the  Christ  Church 
Ball,  the  Masonic  Fete,  the  Wadham  Garden 
Party,  the  Flower  Show  in  Worcester  Gardens, 
and  the  Encoenia  in  the  Sheldonian  on 
Wednesday  morning.  Through  all  this  I  was 
Mrs.  St.  John-Elliot's  favoured  cavalier.  She 
reserved  for  me  a  number  of  dances  which 
made  a  subject  of  comment  from  disappointed 
aspirants,    and    sat    apart    with    me    in    shady 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  117 

nooks  of  College  Gardens.  The  effect  pro- 
duced on  me  by  all  this  I  can  only  describe  as 
rapturous,  and  I  allowed  myself  to  be  carried 
away  by  the  full  torrent  of  my  passion.  As 
for  her,  she  became  more  deliciously  fas- 
cinatingly melting,  so  that,  had  I  been  able 
to  keep  my  head,  I  might  have  seen  cause  to 
draw  back  before  things  had  gone  too  far. 

Winifred,  besides  being  a  general  success, 
received  special  and  devoted  attention  from 
Captain  Abinger  and  Scovell.  The  latter 
stuck  to  her  most  persistently,  but  he  appeared 
to  make  far  less  advance  than  his  mora 
fortunate  rival.  Winifred  treated  him  with 
kindness,  and  clearly  enjoyed  his  attentions. 
But  it  was  no  more  than  that.  She  gave  him 
no  deliberate  opportunities,  as  a  girl  can  give, 
to  carry  the  matter  further.  I  was  frankly 
sorry,  for  I  was  fond  of  Scovell,  and  had  hoped 
that  Winifred  would  also  have  taken  a  fancy 
to  him.  I  could  not  understand  it,  for  there 
was  no  question  to  my  mind  between  the 
merits  of  the  two  rivals.  It  might  be  that  a 
girl  would  feel  more  greatly  flattered  by  the 


1-18  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

attentions  of  an  older  and  experienced  man 
than  by  those  of  a  young  man  little  older  than 
herself,  whom,  in  her  feminine  superiority,  she 
would  call  a  boy  ;  but  it  was  to  me  incredible 
that  she  could  not  detect  the  marked  difference 
in  character  between  the  two,  and  prefer  the 
good  to  the  bad.  But  a  woman's  way  is  too 
wonderful  for  man's  understanding. 

The  Christ  Church  Ball  was  on  Wednesday. 
It  was  the  winding-up  of  the  festivities,  and 
men  and  women  were  alike  nearly  played  out. 
Bella  professed  fatigue  and  "  sat  out "  the 
majority  of  dances,  but  danced  a  few  waltzes 
with  me,  a  few  heavenly  waltzes  which  we  had 
danced  to  before  at  the  other  balls,  and  whose 
ghosts  would  haunt  the  memory  for  many  a 
long  day  and  be  revived  whenever  the  strains 
of  the  music  fell  upon  the  ear,  even  though 
they  came  from  a  street  organ. 

It  was  during  one  of  the  "  sit  outs,"  and 
only  about  two  o'clock,  that  I  was  surprised  to 
see  Scovell  walk  up  to  us  for  the  purpose  of 
saying  good-night.  I  railed  at  him  for  going 
50   early,   but,   with   the   nearest   approach    to 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  119 

bad  temper  that  I  had  ever  seen  in  him,  he 
explained  that  he  was  tired  and  had  a  head- 
ache, neither  of  which  statements  did  I  beheve. 

"  Say  '  good-night '  to  your  sister  for  me," 
he  said. 

I  pointed  out  to  him  that  she  was  at  that 
moment  standing  not  far  off  with  her  partner. 
Captain  Abinger. 

"  I  won't  interrupt  her  now,"  he  said,  and 
turned  away  quickly. 

"  Mr.  Scovell  seems  quite  put  out  about 
something,"  Bella  said. 

There  was  a  queer,  dreamy  expression  in  her 
eyes  as  she  spoke,  an  expression  compounded 
of  regret,  of  annoyance,  and  of  determina- 
tion. 

"  He  seems  to  be  very  much  taken  with 
Winifred, "  she  continued,  "but  I  think  the 
feeling  is  not  entirely  reciprocated,  is  it  ?  " 

I  did  not  quite  know  how  I  was  to  answer 
the  query.  It  was  clearly  intended  to  obtain 
my  opinion,  but  I  felt  some  hesitation  in  saying 
what  I  thought.  It  was  on  my  tongue  to  say 
something  not  too  complimentary  about  Captain 


120  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

Abinger,  but  I  remembered  in  time  that  he 
was  Bella's  friend,  and  I  could  not  afford  to 
risk  wounding  her  smallest  susceptibility. 

"  Perhaps  he  feels  that  he  is  cut  out  for  the 
present  by  Abinger,"  I  hazarded. 

"  Perhaps.  The  Captain  is  certainly  very 
attentive  to  Winifred,  and  appears  for  once  in 
a  way  to  be  quite  serious.  It  is  a  surprise  to 
me,  who  have  known  him  so  long."  Then, 
with  a  little  dry  laugh,  she  added,  "  He  has 
quite  abandoned  me,  and  left  you  in  undisputed 
possession." 

"  Which  is  lucky  for  me,"  I  said  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  Lucky  ?  I  don't  know  about  luck.  Cap- 
tain Abinger  is  a  charming  fellow,  but — " 

She  stopped  abruptly.  I  looked  her  full  in 
the  eyes,  and  they  were  liquid  with  a  drooping 
Hd.  I  moved  a  little.  I  do  not  know  whether 
my  looks  expressed  my  thoughts  at  the 
moment. 

"  I'm   thirsty,"    she    said   suddenly.     "  Take 
me  to  the  refreshment  room." 

It   was    half-past    four   and    bright   sunlight 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  121 

when  we  left  the  Corn  Exchange.  The  effect 
of  three  days  and  three  nights'  dissipation  was 
clearly  marked  on  the  faces  and  behaviour  of 
the  women  and  men.  Dark  rings  about  the 
eyes,  and  faces  either  unduly  flushed  or  unduly 
pallid,  told  their  tale  of  sleeplessness  and  im- 
passioned nerves ;  while  a  certain  sensual 
intimacy  of  bearing  indicated  an  exhausted 
physical  and  moral  fibre.  In  the  glittering 
golden  sunlight  of  a  June  morning  we  walked 
in  groups  to  our  homes  through  the  quiet 
streets  and  sniffed  the  refreshing  purity  of  the 
early  air. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ThkrK  is  no  day  so  dangerous  to  men  and 
women  equally  as  the  day  following  a  period  of 
excitement.  The  lassitude  and  depression 
consequent  upon  physical  exhaustion  makes 
flimsy  the  resistance  of  the  stififest  will,  while 
the  nervous  irritation  which  finds  no  employ- 
ment excites  the  passions  to  a  rebellion  which 
may  end  in  a  condition  of  anarchy. 

What  fatal  happenings  have  the  sweet,  shady 
woods  of  Nuneham  then  witnessed  !  It  has 
long  been  the  custom  for  those  who  remained 
after  Commemoration  to  devote  the  Thursday 
to  a  lazy  river  picnic  at  Nuneham,  and  by  this 
means  to  give  opportunity  to  body  and  mind  to 
recuperate  themselves  after  the  hurry  and 
excitement  of  the  three  earlier  days. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  123 

By  half-past  ten  I  was  dressed  in  flannels 
and  at  the  Randolph,  where  I  found  my  party 
languidly  taking  tea  and  toast. 

"  It  is  very  annoying,"  I  said  ;  "I  have  just 
got  a  note  from  Scovell  saying  he  can't  possibly 
come  to-day." 

Winifred  turned  away  to  stir  her  tea  with 
unnecessary  vigour. 

"  What  is  the  difficulty  ? "  asked  Bella  lan- 
guidly. 

"  He  says  first  of  all  that  he  doesn't  feel  very 
well,  and  his  people  want  him  at  home  as  soon 
as  possible,  so  he  is  going  down  early  this 
afternoon." 

"  Yes  ;  I  mean  what  diflference  does  it  make 
to  our  plans  ?  " 

"  It  upsets  our  boat  arrangements.  Mr.  St. 
John-Elliot  and  I  were  going  to  take  you 
in  our  boat,  and  Scovell  and  Captain  Abinger 
were  to  take  Winifred — or  some  arrangement 
of  that  sort.  Now  we  shall  be  a  man  short, 
and  it  is  too  late  to  ask  anyone  else.  " 

Mr.  St.  John-Elliot  spoke  then. 

"  If   my   absence    will   relieve    the    difficulty, 


124  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

I  would  really — in  fact  I  have  promised  Dr. 
Phillips  that  I  would  take  lunch  with  him  to- 
day." 

"  I  should  like  you  to  come,"  I  said  in  a  half- 
hearted way,  "  but  of  course  we  could  manage 
with  one  boat  by  this  plan.     Only — " 

"  That  would  be  far  the  best  plan,  St.  John," 
Bella  broke  in  quickly.  "  Yes,  you  go  and 
lunch    with    Dr.    Phillips.      I    expect    you're 

tired." 

\^ 

"  It  is  not  unusual  for  me  to  sit  up  many 
nights  as  late  as  this  in  the  '  house ' — meaning 
of  course  Commons,  not  Christ  Church — the 
*  house, '  not  '  the  house,'  I  might  say."  It  was 
a  ponderous  joke.  "  But  I  don't  care  much 
about  picnics.  I  must  admit  that  at  my  age 
I  prefer  to  sit  at  a  table  indoors  to  take  my 
meals . " 

"Oh,  Mr.  Elliot,"  Winifred  cried,  "surely 
you  cannot  be  insensible  to  the  joy  of  sitting  on 
damp  grass,  and  of  the  added  flavour  which 
green  flies  in  the  claret  cup,  caterpillars  in  the 
salad,  and  wasps  in  the  cherry  pie,  give,  to  say 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  125 

nothing  of  the  wonderful  mixture  of  tongue, 
strawberries  and  salad  dressing  ! " 

At  twelve  o'clock  the  four  of  us  were  on 
Salter's  raft  ;  hampers  and  wraps  were  stowed 
away  in  the  boat,  and  we  started.  Nuneham 
was  reached  without  any  event  happening,  and 
we  ate  our  meal  after  the  usual  manner  ;  fingers, 
according  to  the  order  of  creation,  being 
preferred  to  forks. 

After  luncheon  we  strolled  through  the 
woods,  up  the  hill  past  the  Carfax  monu- 
ment. At  first  we  kept  together,  and  the  talk 
was  general,  but  cohesion  and  partial  separa- 
tion followed  in  due  course,  and  general  con- 
versation became  duologues.  So  we  wandered, 
not  caring  whither. 

Whether  it  was  our  fault  or  whether  theirs,  I 
cannot  say.  Bella  and  I  had  been  conversing 
with  spirit  and  interest  for  a  while,  when,  turn- 
ing about,  we  found  that  the  other  pair  were 
out  of  sight.  I  did  not  know  what  to  do  for  a 
moment.  I  was  delighted  to  find  myself  quite 
alone  with  Bella,  but  at  the  prompting  of  pro- 
priety I  questioned  myself  whether  it  was  quite 


126  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

right  to  allow  Winifred  to  wander  unchaperoned 
with  Captain  Abinger.  I  was  quite  incapable 
of  ever  applying  the  same  standard  to  myself  as 
to  my  sister. 

"  Do  you  think  we  ought  to  look  for  them  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"  Do  you  want  them  with  us  ?  "  said  Bella, 
parrying  question  with  question. 

"  No,  but—" 

"  Just  as  you  like." 

There  was  the  faintest  touch  of  coldness  in 
her  voice,  and  my  scruples  fled  at  once. 

"  We  shall  come  across  them  somewhere 
soon,  I  dare  say, "  I  answered. 

"  You  can't  tell  how  much  I  have  enjoyed 
myself  !  "  Bella  said,  as  we  wandered  onward. 
"  You  will  believe  me  when  I  say  that  it  is  the 
first  time  in  my  life  that  I  haven't  felt  bored  to 
death  by  dances  and  things.  I  shall  always 
remember  this  time." 

"  If  you  have  found  enjoyment,  what  shall 
I  say  ? "  I  felt  myself  very  near  making 
an  irretrievable  step,  whether  for  good  or  for 
bad    I    did    not    know,    nor    care.     ''  While    I 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  127 

have  been  near  you,  I  have  been  completely 
happy." 

She  looked  straight  at  me. 

"  Horace,"  she  said,  "  you  musn't  say  those 
things  to  me.  I'm  a  married  woman.  You 
forget  that." 

Behind  the  surface  gravity  there  was  an  ex- 
pression of  mischief,  but  half  hidden,  which 
incited  me  to  go  further. 

"  Yes,  I  forgot  that.  But  I  wish  to  forget  it. 
When  you  are  here,  I  don't  want  to  think  of 
anything  but  you." 

"  You  are  a  bad  boy,  Horace.  I  shall  have 
to  give  you  a  lecture." 

"  Give  it." 

"  I'm  tired.     Let's  sit  down." 

We  had  reached  a  secluded  place.  The 
grass  was  long  and  soft  and  the  shade  of  the 
trees  tempting.  Such  a  place  must  have  been 
the  Enchantment  Ground  of  the  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
gress, where  it  was  dangerous  to  lie  down,  lest 
a  deep  eternal  sleep  should  overtake  one.  As 
Bella  sat  down  and  I  stretched  myself  full 
length  beside  her  so  that  I  could  look  into  her 


128  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

face,  I  felt  that  my  moral  eyes  were  closing  and 
would  soon  be  insensible. 

"  Why  am  I  bad  ?  " 

"  Because  you  are.  Because  you  have  no 
business  to  say  such  things  to  me.  I'm — I'm 
not  a  marble  statue."  Bella's  eyes  were  swim- 
ming, and  at  that  sight  a  respondent  trembling 
made  every  muscle  quiver  in  me. 

"  Thank  God,  no,"  I  said  fervently. 

"  Better  if  I  were,  Horace.  It  would  not 
then  be  difficult  for  me." 

"  What  difficult  ?  "  I  know  my  voice  shook, 
and  I  had  to  cough  to  clear  my  throat. 

"  Difficult  to — to  hide  my  feelings  ;  to  feel  no 
feelings.  But  you  don't  understand.  You 
think  you  can  amuse  yourself  with  me,  that  it  is 
safe  for  you."  She  turned  her  eyes  straight 
upon  mine.  "  Have  you  ever  thought  of 
me?" 

It  was  a  reality  more  maddening  than  my 
wildest  dreams.  It  was  a  fact,  then,  that  she 
really  cared  for  me.  I  could  not  forbear  to 
tantalize  myself  to  the  utmost. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  129 

"  I  am  always  thinking  of  you,"  I  answered, 
pretending  to  misunderstand  her. 

"  Not  that,  silly  boy.  Don't  play  at  mis- 
understanding what  I  mean.  I  am  only  a 
woman,  not  perhaps  a  very  good  woman,  and 
to-day  I  feel  as  if — let  us  look  for  the  others," 
she  suddenly  concluded. 

"  No,  no,  Bella  ;  stay  a  little  while,  just  a 
little.  It  is  a  chance  I  shall  never  have  again. 
You  are  going  away  to-morrow,  and  when  we 
next  meet,  heaven  knows  what  may  have 
happened  meanwhile.     Stay." 

She  made  no  attempt  to  move. 

"  Are  you  sorry  I  am  going  ?  " 

"  I  wish  to-day  might  last  for  ever,"  I 
said. 

"  So  do  I,  Horace.  I  am  very  happy  now, 
happier  than  for  years.  I  shall  be  sorry  to 
go." 

"  Will  you  ? "  I  said  eagerly,  taking  her 
hand,  which  offered  no  resistance. 

She  did  not  answer.  Her  eyes  half  closed, 
and  then  after  a  minute  she  said  dreamily, — 

"  But  to-day  won't  last  for  ever." 


130  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

There  was  another  pause. 

At  seven  o'clock  we  arrived  back  at  the  boat, 
where  Winifred  and  Abinger  were  laughing  and 
talking  with  animation. 

"  Where  did  you  two  get  to  ? "  Winifred 
called  out  quickly  on  seeing  us.  "  We  missed 
you  suddenly,  and  have  wandered  all  over  the 
place,  I  don't  know  how  long,  trying  to  find 
you,  didn't  we,  Captain  Abinger  ?  " 

Abinger  grinned. 

"  Rather, "  he  said,  "  we're  dead  beat;  must 
have  walked  ten  miles  at  least." 

"  Not  ten,"  said  Winifred. 

"  Well,  not  quite  ten,  but  the  dooce  of  a 
distance." 

"  I  know  better,"  Bella  replied,  "  for  we  have 
been  doing  just  the  same.  Odd  we  didn't  find 
each  other,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Dooced  odd,"  Abinger  replied. 

And  certainly  it  would  have  been  odd. 


CHAPTER    XL 

The  following  day  Winifred  and  I  went  down 
home.  We  spoke  very  little  during  the  journey, 
as  we  were  both  pretty  miserable.  I  was  so 
much  taken  up  with  my  own  affairs  that  I 
hardly  noticed  my  sister's  silence,  and  perhaps 
accepted  it  as  quite  befitting  the  mental 
atmosphere  in  which  I  was  living  for  the  time. 

We  found  my  father  very  far  from  well, 
nervous,  irritable,  and  at  times  wandering.  It 
was  very  unlike  his  ordinary  condition,  that  in 
which  I  had  always  known  him;  for  although 
for  many  years  past  he  had  been  a  gloomy  man, 
yet  his  mind  was  always  clear  and  active,  and 
he  was  accustomed  to  deal  with  difficulties  in  a 
common-sense  way.  But  now  the  smallest 
trouble,  the  least  thing  which  went  wrong, 
worried  him  quite  beyond  its  true  importance. 


132  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

and  he  magnified  a  trifling  bother  to  the  pro- 
portions of  a  great  misfortune.  At  first  I  was 
not  a  Httle  disturbed,  but  very  shortly  I  grew 
accustomed  to  it,  and,  full  of  myself,  gave  little 
concern  to  the  matter. 

Miss  Tennant  was  in  constant  attendance,  pale 
and  mysterious  as  ever.  The  woman  fascinated 
me  in  a  curious  way.  It  was  not  attracted 
by  her,  but  I  felt  a  kind  of  weird  interest,  as 
though  she  were  not  quite  mortal.  She  was 
not  perhaps  very  striking  at  first  sight,  although 
her  curious,  cold  whiteness  should  have  been 
remarkable.  But  by  frequent  contemplation 
of  her  strange  personality  I  came  to  observe 
that  she  was  a  creature  of  superb  beauty.  Her 
face,  figure,  and  complexion  were  in  every 
respect  perfect,  and  it  was  only  her  more  than 
statuesque  coldness  that  prevented  one  from 
seeing  this  from  the  first.  I  wondered  within 
myself  whether  a  single  passion  were  contained 
within  her,  or  whether  all  were  there,  sup- 
pressed indeed,  but  if  aroused  likely  to  burn 
with  the  fury  of  an  oil-ship  on  fire.  She  was 
ever  watchful  over  my  father,  and  he  seemed 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  133 

to  have  fallen  most  completely  under  her  in- 
fluence. 

"  I  say,  Winnie,  what  is  Miss  Tennant's 
game  ?  " 

Winifred  looked  at  me  in  curious  surprise. 

"  I  should  think  any  one  with  half  an  eye 
could  see,"  she  answered.  "But  of  course  I  have 
seen  much  more  of  it  than  you.     I  forgot  that." 

"  Does  she  think  she  is  going  to  be  our  step- 
mother ?  " 

"  Does  she  think  !  Horace,  she  will  be  as 
sure  as  I  am  here,  unless  something  happens 
to  prevent  it,  something  unexpected  and 
tremendous." 

*'  Poor  us  !  "  I  said. 

"  It  won't  be  poor  me,"  Winifred  answered 
with  defiance.  "  I  shall  take  precious  good 
care  of  that." 

''  How  ? " 

"  By  getting  married,"  she  answered. 

This  brought  me  an  opportunity  of  getting 
into  a  subject  that  I  had  found  great  difficulty 
in  speaking  of. 


134  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"  That  would  be  all  right,  of  course  ;  but 
Winnie,  you  are  not  going  to  marry  Captain 
Abinger,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Who  said  I  was  ?  "  she  said  sharply. 

"  Lots  of  people,  if  it  comes  to  that.  But 
are  you  ?  " 

"  Why  shouldn't  I,  anyhow  ?  " 

"  Well,  I— I  don't  quite  Hke  him." 

"  It  doesn't  seem  to  me  that  that  matters,  aS 
you  are  not  going  to  marry  him." 

"  But  it  does  matter.  It  would  be  horrid 
of  you,  Winnie,  to  marry  someone  I  don't  like. 
I  don't  want  to  lose  you  when  you  do  marry." 

"  Moonshine  !  "  said  Winifred.  "  You  don't 
like  Captain  Abinger  because  he  clearly  likes 
me,  while  you  wanted  to  have  a  hand  in  choos- 
ing my  future  husband,  and  you  had  selected 
someone  else." 

"  I  had  selected  no  one." 

"  Yes,  you  had.  But  we  won't  discuss  that. 
It  won't  be  yet  awhile.  We  aren't  even 
engaged." 

"  Which  implies  that  you  have  a  private 
understanding  ?  " 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  135 

Winifred  neither  assented  nor  dissented.  I 
was  sorry,  because  I  had  hoped  for  quite  other 
things.  However,  I  knew  my  sister's  character: 
she  was  wilful,  and  any  opposition  would 
be  likely  to  make  her  do  the  very  thing  that  we 
wished  to  prevent.  Moreover,  I  realized  the 
truth  of  what  she  had  said,  that  I  certainly  had 
arrogated  to  myself  an  imaginary  right  to  have 
a  voice  in  the  matter.  And  perhaps  after  all 
I  was  wrong  in  my  opinion  of  Captain  Abinger, 
who  might  be  a  much  better  fellow  than  he 
appeared  to  me. 

"  But  we  don't  know  anything  about  Captain 
Abinger,"  I  continued  quietly. 

"  We  ?  You  don't,  because  you  have  never 
troubled  to  find  out.     I  do." 

"  What  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  Look  here,  Horace,  you  had  better  go  and 
ask  Bella.  Captain  Abinger  is  an  old  friend  of 
hers.  He  is  of  very  good  family,  and,  I  under- 
stand, well  ofif  ;  but  you  can  sympathize  with 
me  in  having  refrained  from  making  very  par- 
ticular inquiries  on  that  point,  considering  the 
present  condition  of  affairs.  However,  you  ask 
Bella." 


136  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOi: 

"  I  can  hardly  do  that." 

"  You  are  thick  enough  with  her  in  all  con- 
science," Winifred  said  with  obvious  intention. 
"  And  if  it  comes  to  that,  Horace,  I  don't  feel 
quite  certain  that  it  is  exactly  right  of  you  to 
go  on  in  the  way  you  do." 

"  What  way  ? "  I  said,  feeling  the  blood 
mount  to  my  face. 

"  That  way.     You  know  she  is  married." 

"I  presume  so.  Anyway,  she  is  your  friend 
first." 

"  I  know,  and  I  like  her  very  much  ;  but  all 
the  same — " 

She  did  not  say  any  more,  and  I  was  not 
sorry  to  let  the  conversation  drop,  feeling  that 
I  was  likely  to  get  the  worst  of  it. 

It  was  not  long  before  I  found  existence  in 
my  father's  house  becoming  intolerable.  The 
Walcote  estates  were  as  beautiful  in  scenery 
as  any  to  be  found  in  the  midlands,  but 
I  had  no  desire  for  beautiful  scenery, 
which  was  quite  out  of  sympathy  with  my 
mental  condition.  I  bored  myself  to  death, 
and  could  take  no  delight  in  rural    pleasures. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  137 

My  disquietude  of  spirit  reacted  qo',  the  house- 
hold. We  were  all  inclined  to  be  touchy  and 
peevish,  and  a  hint  thrown  out  one  day  that  I 
thought  of  going  up  to  town  for  a  fortnight  or 
so  met  with  no  opposition. 

The  only  thing  that  served  to  detain  me  at 
Walcote  was  the  presence  of  Miss  Tennant 
Day  by  day  I  seemed  to  fall  more  under  the 
spell  of  her  fascination,  and  that  without 
the  exercise  of  any  outward  ^ffort  on  her  part. 
On  the  other  hand  I  knew  that  the  honours  list 
for  Moderations  would  soon  be  published,  and  I 
was  especially  desirous  of  being  away  from  my 
father  at  that  time,  fearing  and  indeed  knowing 
that  I  had  not  done  well.  In  his  present 
condition  it  would  have  been  impossible  to 
advance  any  specious  excuse  for  my  failure,  and 
the  inevitable  scene  which  I  foresaw  would 
take  place  if  I  stayed,  would  probably  end  with 
a  quarrel. 

Before  I  left  I  had  a  conversation  with  the 
doctor,  who  came  every  day. 

"There  is  not  in  my  opinion  any  immediate 
danger,"  he  said;  "but  Mr.  Manners  is  in  such  a 


1^8  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

condition  that  worry  or  excitement  might  induce 
an  unfavourable  alteration,  and  it  is  impossible 
for  me  to  say  now  how  it  would  end.  I 
hope,  however,  in  a  short  time  that  he  will 
recover  himself,  if  nothing  happens  in  the 
meanwhile  to  tip  the  scale  in  the  wrong 
direction." 

This  opinion  more  than  justified  my  resolu- 
tion to  leave  home  for  a  time,  for  I  felt  that  my 
presence,  in  my  unsettled  condition,  might  give 
cause  of  annoyance  to  a  man  in  his  touch-and-go 
state  of  health. 

In  London  I  engaged  rooms  at  a  central 
hotel,  and  the  next  day  went  to  see  the 
Scovells. 

I  found  only  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Scovell  at 
home. 

"  Egbert  will  be  in  soon,"  said  Mrs.  Scovell. 

"  I'm  very  glad  you've  come  at  this  time," 
the  Colonel  said,  "  because  I  should  like  to  ask 
you  a  question.  I  know,  Manners,  that  you 
are  the  boy's  most  intimate  friend,  and  perhaps 
you  can  tell  me.  Do  you  know  if  anything  has 
happened  to  him  lately  ?  " 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  139 

I  did  not. 

"  You  don't  think  he  is  in  debt  or  any  kind 
of  scrape  at  Oxford  ?  " 

I  certainly  knew  of  nothing. 

"  I  couldn't  think  of  asking  him,"  he  con- 
tinued ;  "  but  if  it  were  so,  of  course  we  would 
settle  it  at  once.  But  you  say  no,  and  I  expect 
you  would  have  heard  of  anything  of  the  sort." 

I  asked  what  was  the  matter. 

"  That's  just  what  we  can't  tell,  can  we, 
dear? "  addressing  his  wife.  "  He  is  very 
much  changed,  and  seems  to  be  in  an  unsettled 
state.  He  says  he  wants  to  leave  the  Univer- 
sity and  go  into  the  army.  Nothing  would 
please  me  more,  but,  as  you  know,  he  has  up 
to  now  firmly  refused  to  do  anything  of  the 
sort,  and  we  can't  help  thinking  that  there 
must  be  some  special  cause  for  so  sudden 
a  change." 

Scovell  had  never  hinted  at  it  to  me,  and  I 
professed  myself  quite  unable  to  assign  any 
cause  for  it. 

"  In  that  case,  said  the  Colonel,  "  we  must 
put  it  down  to  a  weakness  for  change  of  mind. 


140  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

inherited  from  his  mother's  family.  She  is  a 
wonderful  example  of  it." 

Mrs.  Scovell  only  smiled  benignly. 

"  It  is  a  sign  of  greatness,  as  Mr.  Gladstone 
said,  to  change  the  mind,"  I  observed  with  the 
object  of  being  polite. 

"  Gladstone  ?  "  queried  the  Colonel.  "  Ah, 
yes,  I  know,  a  political  fellow.  He  doesn't 
count." 

Scovell  came  in  soon.  He  greeted  me  just  as 
usual,  but  he  had  a  worried,  don't-care-much- 
what-I-do  look  that  was  unusual  in  him.  At 
dinner,  to  which  I  stayed,  he  did  not  eat  much 
but  drank  a  great  deal,  which  made  him  flushed 
and  excited. 

It  was  some  time  before  I  got  the  oppor- 
tunity of  speaking  to  him  alone  on  the  subject. 

"  Yes,  well,  I  don't  know,"  he  said.  "  I  seem 
to  be  sick  of  Oxford,  and  fancy  I  should  like  to 
be  a  military  Johnny.  But,  as  I  say,  I  don't 
know.     Don't  bother.     What  does  it  matter  ?  " 

Later  he  said, — 

"  I'll  walk  back  to  the  hotel  with  you." 

We  went.     He  insisted  on  having  one,  two, 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  14I 

and  three  drinks  at  the  Criterion.  Then 
suddenly  said  good  night. 

"  I'm  going  for  a  prowl  round,"  he  added* 
Evidently  something  had  happened  to  Scovell, 
and  I  imagined  it  might  have  something  to  do 
with  Winifred.  If  I  had  asked  him,  and  it 
were  true,  he  would  have  denied  it,  I  felt 
certain  ;  therefore  I  was  obliged  to  leave  the 
subject  alone. 

Next  day  I  went  to  visit  Nelly.  Her  circum- 
stances had  greatly  changed.  Instead  of  a 
lodging  at  Brixton,  she  now  occupied  a  largish 
West-end  flat,  and  had  two  servants  and  her 
maid. 

Nelly's  maid  was  dressing  her  hair  when 
I  called,  but  I  was  not  kept  waiting.  After  the 
manner  of  the  fashionable  beauties  of  the  last 
century  she  asked  me  to  come  and  sit  in  her 
bedroom  while  her  toilet  was  being  completed. 
She  had  altered  a  good  deal  in  a  month  or 
two.  All  trace  of  the  rustic,  simple  girl  had 
vanished,  and  she  had  acquired  the  appearance 
and  manner  of  the  hardened  professional.  I 
was  not  sure  at  first  whether  the  change  was  an 


142  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

improvement  or  not.  When  I  was  away  from 
her  I  always  thought  of  Nelly  as  I  remembered 
her  at  Winchester,  and  the  splendid  creature 
before  me  seemed  to  be  another  woman. 
All  the  same,  I  was  lost  in  admiration  of  her 
magnificent  appearance,  and  I  flattered  myself 
that,  for  good  or  ill,  I  was  responsible  for  her 
making.  I  realized  that  it  did  me  credit,  from 
a  worldly  point  of  view,  and  that  I  should  gain 
much  in  the  estimation  of  the  ordinary  young 
man  of  the  day  by  my  connection  with  this  new 
star  of  the  lyric  stage. 

When  we  were  alone  she  said, — 

"  I'm  delighted  to  see  you,  old  boy — I  was 
just  thinking  of  writing  to  you." 

"  Were  you  ?     What  about  ?" 

"  Why,  I'm  awfully  hard  up,  and  thought 
you  would  send  me  something." 

"  Hard  up  ?  "  I  exclaimed,  looking  round  the 
room,  which  was  most  delicately  furnished, 
and  on  her  dressing-table  which  was  scattered 
with  jewellery.  "  This  doesn't  look  much  like 
being  hard  up." 

"  That's  just  it,"  she  said  ;    "  one  has  got  to 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  143 

do  all  this.  You  know,  old  boy,  the  poverty- 
trick  is  no  earthly  use  in  my  line.  Unless  you 
can  do  yourself  thoroughly  well,  managers 
won't  look  at  you.  Do  you  remember  that 
notice  we  saw  in  the  door-keeper's  box 
that  day  ?  Well,  that  tells  you  what  our 
form  is.  If  ladies  receiving  a  less  salary 
than  two  guineas  are  not  expected  to  drive 
to  the  theatre  in  their  broughams,  ladies 
receiving  a  greater  salary  than  two  guineas 
are—" 

"  But  you  must  be  getting  a  big  salary  to 
live  like  this." 

"  Fifteen  a  week — that's  all  at  present. 
It'll  be  fifty  before  I've  done,  but  that's  not 

now." 

« 

"  Look  here,  Nell,"  I  said.  "  I  know  some- 
thing about  it,  and  I  feel  certain  that  you  can't 
do  this  on  fifteen  guineas  a  week." 

"  Of  course  not,  else  I  shouldn't  ask  you, 
dear  boy,  you  may  bet  your  boots.  I'd  never 
ask  you  for  another  penny  again,  if  I  could 
help  it.     I   owe  you  too   much   already.     But 


144  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

you'd  rather  I  asked  you  than  some  other 
Johnny,  wouldn't  you  ?  " 

A  pang  of  jealousy  shot  through  me  at  these 
words. 

"Some  other  Johnny  ? "  I  said  coldly. 
"  Have  you  got  many  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  think  ?  Do  you  suppose  the 
managerruent  pay  me  fifteen  guineas  a  week 
without  being  certain  that  they  get  good  return 
for  it  ?  If  I  didn't  have  half  a  dozen  chaps 
who  pay  to  come  and  see  me,  I  should  get 
turned  out  jolly  quick,  you  bet." 

"  Indeed,"  I  said. 

She  jumped  up,  caught  me  round  the  neck 
and  kissed  me. 

"  You  jealous  old  donkey  !  I  don't  care 
tAat " — biting  her  thumb — "  for  any  one  of  them. 
I  shall  never  love  anybody  but  my  old  boy. 
But  as  they  have  money  to  chuck  away,  they 
may  as  well  chuck  it  on  me  as  on  some  other 
girl.     Don't  you  see  ?  " 

"  But  they — they  expect  some  return." 

"  And  they  get  it." 

"Nelly!" 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  145 

"  Rats  !  They  have  the  fun  of  flashing  me 
about  and  swaggering  about  their  fortune 
among  their  friends — and  that's  all.  Don't 
you  believe  me  ?  " 

She  kissed  me  again. 

I  could  not  justify  myself  in  my  sight — 
mine  ! — to  be  jealous,  but  I  was.  However, 
Nell's  kisses  and  assurances  won  the  day^  as 
they  were  bound  to  do,  and  she  knew  they 
would.  I  had  a  hundred  pounds  saved  with 
which  I  intended  to  pay  the  first  (and  now 
overdue)  instalment  of  old  Scarlett's  bill.  I 
gave  it  to  Nelly. 

"  Is  that  all  you  can  manage,  old  chap  ? " 
she  said  rather  disappointedly. 

"All  at  present,"  I  said,  "but  I'll  see  what 
more  I  can  do  in  a  little  time.  I'm  awfully 
hard  up  just  now  myself." 

"  I'm  a  selfish  little  cat,  a'n't  I  ?  "  she  said 
with  provoking  sincerity.  "  I  don't  want  it 
from  my  old  boy  if  he  can't  spare  it.  But  I 
do  want  it  badly.  I  did  want  a  bit  more,  but 
this  will  do  for  the  present." 

I  assured  her  that  I  could  spare  that. 


146  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"  It  would  only  have  gone  to  repay  a  Jew,"  I 
explained. 
"  A  Jew  !    He  can  go  and  eat  coke." 

Nelly  was  without  doubt  progressing  in  her 
profession. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

It  was  now  past  the  middle  of  July,  and  every 
one  was  going  out  of  town.  I  had  made 
several  calls  at  the  St.  John-Elliots,  and  found 
Bella  just  as  I  had  left  her  last.  She  allowed 
me  to  occupy  the  same  place,  a  position  about 
equal  to  that  of  a  tame  cat,  but  I  got  no 
further.  I  supposed  that  the  limit  of  my  tether 
had  been  reached,  and  that  I  must  rest  content 
3/vith  the  length  of  rope  already  allowed  me. 
Although  my  spirit  did  not  rest  satisfied  with 
this,  my  reason  explained  to  me  that  some 
bound  had  to  be  set,  and  it  was  best  for  me  in 
every  way  that  it  should  be  set  where  it  was, 
near  enough  to  make  it  pleasant,  and  far 
enough  to  prevent  danger.  It  was  certainly 
better  to  enjoy  the  privileges   I   enjoyed   than 


148  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

to  risk  the  ruin  of  everything  by  pressing  too 
far. 

I  was  permitted,  so  to  speak,  to  stand  just 
within  the  gates  of  heaven,  and  the  place 
assigned  me  was  infinitely  preferable  to  being 
put  out  and  locked  out,  perhaps  even  thrown 
into  the  infernal  region. 

One  morning  I  got  a  letter  from  my  sister 
saying  that  my  father  seemed  a  little  worse. 
Something  had  occurred  to  worry  him,  but  she 
did  not  like  to  ask  him  what. 

I  had  pretty  nearly  forgotten  everything 
between  my  joint  attentions  to  Nelly  and  Bella. 
On  receiving  Winifred's  letter  a  terrible  fore- 
boding seized  upon  me.  With  trembling  handa 
I  unfolded  the  morning  paper  and  looked 
hastily  for  "  University  Intelligence."  There  it 
was,  the  honours  list  of  Moderations  !  I  had 
only  got  a  third  class.  I  was_not  really  sur- 
prised. In  light-hearted  moments  I  hoped  fou 
a  second,  but  my  position  came  with  no  shock 
to  me. 

What  worried  me  now  was  the  news  about 
my  father.     I  had  never  thought  of  anything 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  149 

except  myself  in  this  matter  of  the  examination. 
But  I  now  saw  that  the  annoyance  at  my 
failure  might  have  a  serious  effect  upon  him. 
I  freely  cursed  myself  for  being  such  a  short- 
sighted fool. 

In  this  state  I  went  to  see  Bella  for  consola- 
tion. She  was  more  than  usually  kind, 
almost  affectionate  to  me,  and  I  supposed 
that  she  was  aware  of  my  misfortune.  To  my 
surprise  it  was  not  so,  and  when  I  told  her 
she  only  laughed  and  called  me  a  wicked, 
idle  boy  who  would  come  to  a  bad  end.  I 
don't  think  she  grasped  the  importance  of  a 
better  or  a  worse  class  in  a  University  exami- 
nation. 

"  IVe  had  a  letter  from  Winnie,"  she  said> 
shortly  afterwards. 

"  What  does  she  say  ?  " 

"  She  says  she  is  afraid  your  father  is  rather 
worse.     I  am  so  sorry." 

Once  more  this  harping  on  my  father's 
health,  and  once  more,  not  understanding  it,  I 
put  it  down  to  kindness  of  heart. 

This   took   place   at  afternoon   tea.     A   few 


I50  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

visitors,  mostly  men,  called,  but  soon  left.  A 
telegram  arrived.  She  read  it,  and  then 
said, — 

"  Will  you  stay  to  dinner,  Horace  ?  Don't 
mind  about  dressing.  We  shall  be  quite  b}^ 
ourselves." 

I  understood  her  to  mean  herself,  Mr. 
St.  John-Elliot,  and  me.  I  accepted  with 
pleasure. 

When  dinner-time  came,  Mr.  St.  John-Elliot 
did  not  arrive,  and  we  went  down  alone.  Only 
two  places  were  laid.  She  saw  my  look  of 
questioning. 

"  There  is  an  important  division  expected  to 
take  place  to-night,  and  he  can't  leave  the 
House  probably  till  very  late.  The  twelve- 
o'clock  rule  is  suspended,  as  it  is  the  intention 
of  the  Government  to  pass  their  measure 
through  Committees,  or  whatever  it  is,  and  as 
there  is  a  good  deal  of  obstruction  anticipated 
it  may  mean  a  very  late  sitting.  That  is  the 
misfortune  of  being  a  Member's  wife.  No 
husband  at  home  for  half  the  nights  in  the 
year.     No  wonder  we  are  dull.     Imagine  you 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  151 

are  Mr.  St.  John-Elliot  and  take  that  end  of 
the  table,  please," 

I  felt  inclined  to  make  some  appropriately 
gallant  reply,  but  the  soup  was  now  being 
served,  and  a  solemn  butler  acted  as  a  damper 
on  any  little  efforts  in  that  direction;  though 
to  do  the  excellent  fellow  justice,  he  would  not 
have  turned  a  hair  if  I  had  openly  kissed 
Bella. 

It  was  late  that  night  when  I  left  the  house, 
feeling  happier  than  ever  before,  for  Bella's 
condescention  had  come  one  step  further  down 
the  ladder. 

This  was  the  state  in  which  I  went  to  bed 
and  rose  up  in  the  morning.  My  spirits  were 
soon  to  be  damped.  On  my  breakfast-table 
lay  a  fat  letter,  on  the  envelope  of  which  was  a 
very  shaky  edition  of  my  father's  handwriting. 
I  will  not  reproduce  the  letter.  It  is  enough  to 
say  that  he  was  in  a  towering  rage,  partly  at 
my  failure,  and  partly  at  another  matter  which 
was  a  veritable  bolt  from  the  blue. 

No  greater  mistake  can  be  made  than  in 
calling  a  son  by  the  same  name  and  initials  as 


152  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

his  father.  I  do  not  say  which  of  the  two, 
father  or  son,  may  suffer  most  from  the  error. 
In  this  case  it  was  the  son.  My  father  enclosed 
a  letter  addressed  to  Horace  Manners,  Esq., 
"Which  I  am  afraid  is  intended  for  you.  I 
regret  having  opened  it,  for  the  opening  of  this 
letter  has  been  the  opening  of  my  eyes." 

It  was  no  less  than  a  note  from  Mr.  Scarlett 
reminding  me  that  the  overdue  instalment  of 
ninety  odd  pounds  on  my  promissory  note  had 
not  been  paid. 

No  greater  misfortune  could  have  happened. 
It  was  useless  to  attempt  to  explain  matters. 
I  thought  over  every  possible  excuse,  equalling 
in  ingenuity  Sidney  Grundy's  Arabian  Nights; 
but  this  was  not  a  play,  and  I  could  not  hit  upon 
anything  which  seemed  to  be  of  any  use. 

The  concluding  lines  of  the  letter  came  as 
the  greatest  blow.  In  his  anger  my  father 
reduced  my  allowance  of  looo/.  to  its  original 
500/. 

But  this  was  not  all.  A  few  days  later  I 
received  another  letter.  It  was  from  the 
College,  and  informed  me  that  in  view  of  my 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  153 

complete  failure  to  uphold,  as  I  was  bound  as  a 
scholar  to  do,  the  credit  of  the  College,  it  had 
been  decided  at  a  meeting  of  the  Dean  and 
Fellows  to  deprive  me  of  my  scholarship. 
This  information  had  also  been  communicated 
to  my  father. 

In  the  state  of  depression  produced  by  so 
much  misfortune  I  was  unable  at  all  to  enjoy 
my  ordinary  pursuits.  I  did  not  dare  go  home. 
I  hardly  knew  what  to  do,  but  at  last  determined 
to  pack  up  my  traps  and  take  myself  off  to 
Switzerland  and  indulge  in  a  little  Alpine 
climbing. 

By  holding  over  the  mstalment  due  to 
Scarlett  by  an  arrangement  which  I  knew  to 
be  iniquitous  as  against  me,  but  of  which  I 
did  not  even  trouble  to  ask  so  much  as  the 
details,  I  had  enough  money  left  for  my 
purpose  if  I  practised  economy. 

I  had  hardly  heart  enough  to  say  good-bye 
to  Bella,  and  did  not  dare  go  to  see  Nell.  I 
believe,  poor  girl,  she  would  have  dealt  fairly 
by  me;  but  my  courage  failed  me  when  I 
thought  that  I   should  be  obliged  to  tell  her 


154  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

that  I  could  hardly  do  anything  for  her  in 
future. 

Once  or  twice  I  received  overdue  letters  in 
Switzerland  saying  that  my  father  was  in  a 
questionable  state  of  health,  but  no  actual 
danger  was  apprehended. 

But  one  day  getting  back  to  my  hotel  after  a 
hard  climb,  a  letter  from  Winifred  was  handed 
to  me,  asking  me  to  come  back  at  once  as  he 
had  taken  a  serious  turn  for  the  worse,  and  it 
was  doubtful  if  he  could  pull  through. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

By  the  time  I  had  reached  England  and 
Walcote  my  father  was  dead.  The  end  had 
been  very  rapid.  Death  was  due  to  softening 
of  the  spinal  marrow  consequent  upon  influenza, 
and  aggravated  by  mental  worry.  This  is  one 
of  the  most  terrible  sequalia  of  that  insidious 
and  dreadful  disease,  which  is  the  more  fatal 
inasmuch  as  the  primary  attack  is  often  of  so 
mild  a  nature,  that  little  or  no  notice  is  taken 
of  it.  These  are  the  cases  that  so  often  end 
fatally. 

I  was  far  more  shocked  and  emotional  than, 
to  own  the  truth,  I  ever  expected  to  be.  No 
great  love,  to  judge  by  external  signs,  was  lost 
between  myself  and  my  father.  For  many 
years  we  had  hit  it  ofif  together  none  too  well, 


156  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

and  if  ever  the  idea  of  his  death  occurred  to  my 
mind,  it  did  not  touch  me  greatly,  and  I  felt 
that  my  own  grief  could  have  full  outlet  in 
keeping  the  ceremonial  observances  usual  in 
such  circumstances.  Yet,  now  that  the  blow 
had  come,  and  I  realized  that  my  father  was 
actually  dead,  I  felt  a  grief  that  was  really  deep. 
This  only  illustrates  a  fact  which  I  have  in  the 
course  of  my  life  of  thirty  years  proved  more 
than  once  to  be  true:  that  the  imagination  is 
quite  unable  to  predict  the  actual  feelings  we 
shall  experience  in  any  particular  circumstance 
of  an  important  kind;  often  it  quite  over- 
estimates our  joy  or  our  sorrow,  while  not 
infrequently  it  fails  completely  to  make  any 
approach  to  the  force  or  nature  of  the  emotion 
that  will  be  called  out. 

My  sorrow  was  all  the  greater  because  I  felt 
that,  in  a  certain  measure,  I  was  responsible 
for  the  immediately  exciting  cause  of  his 
death  at  this  time.  No  doubt  his  nervous 
constitution  had  become  so  much  weakened 
that  he  could  not  have  lasted  many  years. 
But    with    complete    freedom    from    worry    at 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  157 

the  period  he  might  so  far  have  regained 
his  strength  that  the  end  would  have  been 
considerably  postponed.  My  failure  and  my 
extravagance,  which  perhaps  would  have 
produced  nothing  but  anger  and  resolute 
action  in  a  healthy  mind,  had  been  the  cause 
of  baleful  irritation  to  a  nervous  system 
broken  down  by  a  disease  which  has  been 
responsible  for  more  deaths  than  the  most 
malignant  plague  or  destroying  war. 

For  some  time  after  the  event,  Winifred 
and  I  lived  in  entire  seclusion  at  Walcote, 
neither  receiving  nor  visiting  any  one  except 
the  most  intimate  relations  and  family  friends. 
Miss  Tennant  also  remained  with  us  to  take 
care  of  the  house,  a  position  which  she  took' 
upon  herself  without  any  request  on  our 
part,  but  equally  without  any  opposition  from 
us. 

She — although  it  produced  no  visible  change 
in  her  white,  icy  demeanour — was  also  much 
affected  by  the  death  of  my  father.  Whether 
it  was  that  she  had  entertained  a  sincere 
affection    for    him,    or    whether    she    was    dis- 


15B  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

appointed  of  the  attainment  of  a  carefully 
prepared  scheme,  I  could  not  then  possibly 
have  decided.  She  was  at  all  times  inscrutable, 
and  in  the  generosity  of  heart  which  sorrowful 
emotion  excites,  I  was  quite  prepared  to 
believe  that  we  might,  in  the  unconsidered 
judgment  of  our  youth,  have  wronged  Bianca 
Tennant  in  our  estimate  of  her  character. 
A  governess  is  never  a  heroine  to  her  pupil 
nor  to  her  pupil's  brother,  nor  is  a  person 
employed  to  fill  professionally  the  place  of  a 
mother  likely  to  command  the  admiration 
of  the  children;  especially  if,  as  is  this  case, 
she  is  a  young  woman,  not  old  enough  to 
exact  respect,  nor  young  enough  to  attract 
affection. 

Bianca  Tennant  therefore  remained  with  us 
for  the  present. 

Much  of  my  time  was  occupied  in  settling 
my  father's  affairs.  He  was  a  careful  and 
methodical  man,  and  everything  was  in  most 
perfect  order.  But  his  fortune  both  in  real 
and  personal  estate  was  large,  and  it  is  not 
needful  to  tell  those  who  have  had  experience 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  159 

of  such  matters  that  the  amount  of  work  and 
personal  attention  involved  is  enormous  in 
such  case,  even  under  the  pilotage  of  the 
most  skilful  and  painstaking  of  family 
lawyers. 

Being  yet  under  age,  I  naturally  had  far 
less  to  do  than  would  have  been  otherwise 
the  case.  But  it  was  quite  enough  for  a  young 
man  who  had  had  no  experience  of  business. 
The  bulk  of  the  work  fell  to  the  executors  who 
were  also  appointed  trustees  of  the  estate  during 
our  minority.  The  trustees  were  Lord  Pen- 
nington and  Mr.  Brickwood  Hague  Temple. 
Lord  Pennington,  who  was  my  father's  most 
intimate  friend,  was  a  leader  in  the  Home 
Missionary  movement.  He  was  in  every  way 
a  most  estimable  gentleman,  without  fear  and 
without  reproach.  But  the  joint  influences 
of  Temperance,  Toynbee  Hall,  and  Church 
Extension  made  him  none  too  lenient  towards 
the  little  peccadilloes  of  youth.  In  using  the 
word  "  peccadillo  "  I  refer  obviously  to  myself. 
Another  might  have  termed  them  vices. 

Mr.  Brickwood  Hague  Temple,  whose  name 


l6o  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

was  not  euphonious,  was  the  family  lawyer, 
a  man  of  substance,  of  importance;  a  solid 
man,  but  as  dry  as  the  law  of  real  pro- 
perty. 

I  am  sure  the  executors  did  their  work  admir- 
ably and  managed  everything  for  the  best,  but 
their  extreme  conscientiousness  in  carrying  out 
my  father's  wishes  filled  me  with  some  appre- 
hension for  the  future. 

The  real  estate  and  the  bulk  of  the  personal 
property  came  to  me,  and,  all  told,  produced 
an  income  of  some  seventeen  thousand  a  year. 
Winifred  got  fifty  thousand  pounds  on  her 
majority  or  her  marriage,  whichever  happened 
first,  and  in  the  meantime  an  allowance  of  a 
thousand  a  year.  My  allowance  was  to  be 
five  thousand  a  year  until  I  reached  the  age 
of  twenty-one,  but — and  this  was  the  point 
that  caused  me  some  uneasiness — the  trustees 
were  given  the  power,  if  they  thought  fit,  to 
defer  my  majority  until  I  reached  twenty-five. 
In  that  case  I  should  have  no  power  to  deal 
with  the  capital  sum,  and  should  receive 
whatever     of     the     interest     on     the     capital 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  i6i 

remained,  after  providing  for  keeping  up  th^ 
estates  properly,  and  paying  certain  other 
standing  obligations.  This  would  consume 
about  five  thousand  a  year,  so  that  at  most  I 
should  get  some  twelve  thousand,  if  the 
trustees  put  their  power  in  force. 

My  fears  were  not  very  deep,  and  were  born 
more  of  fancy  than  actuality.  When  I  came 
to  think  the  matter  07er  it  seemed  to  me  that 
I  should  hardly  be  likely  to  spend  more  than 
five  thousand  during  the  test  year,  when  I 
should  be  twenty-one,  even  if  I  indulged  in 
any  reasonable  extravagance,  and  thereupon 
the  trustees  could  find  no  reasonable  ground 
for  postponing  my  majority.  But  yet  I  did 
not  feel  certain.  The  trustees  were  stiff  men, 
and  I  thought  that  they  might  regard  as  very 
sinful  and  wasteful  the  most  ordinary  of 
youthful  follies. 

I  went  back  to  Oxford  for  the  autumn  term, 
and  I  very  soon  discovered  the  change  which 
my  new  position  had  brought  about.  I  was 
naturally  regarded  as  the  master  of  a  very 
considerable  fortune    and  a  valuable  property, 


i62  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

which  was  good  security  for  any  amount  of 
credit.  All  the  tradesmen  had  become  so 
amiable  and  so  pressing  that  the  chief  diffi- 
culty was  to  select.  As,  however,  to  do  so 
would  savour  of  unreasoning  favouritism,  I 
settled  the  difficulty  by  giving  them  my  custom 
all  round,  and  as  none  of  them  troubled  to  send 
in  an  account,  I  had  all  I  wished  for  any  yet 
found  my  allowance  untouched. 

Mr.  Scarlett  was  too  polite  for  words.  I  had 
made  up  my  mind  to  settle  up  \  with  him  at 
once.  For  a  time  he  positively  refused  to  take 
my  cheque,  declaring  that  the  last  thing  in  the 
world  that  he  wished  to  do  was  to  trouble  a 
gentleman  in  my  position,  and  if  at  any  time — ■ 
I  cut  short  his  interesting  speculations  by] 
taking  out  my  cheque-book  and  beginning  to 
fill  up  a  cheque  for  the  amount  of  his  bill. 
He  stopped  me  doing  so  with  the  explanation 
that,  as  the  instalments  had  not  been  paid 
punctually,  there  would  be  certain  additional 
sums  by  way  of  interest.  I  did  not  trouble  to 
understand  the  way  in  which  these  additional 
amounts  were  computed,  because  it  appeared 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  163 

to  be  by  some  method  which  only  an  actuary 
could  manipulate  with  certainty  ;  but  somehow 
the  capital  advance,  the  prospective  profit,  and 
the  interim  interests  all  got  lumped  together 
and  bore  a  further  interest  at  a  moderate 
rate  of  five  per  cent,  per  month.  The  total 
came  to  something  like  three  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds,  and  though  this  seemed  to  be  a 
fair  profit  on  an  advance  of  a  hundred  and 
fifty  in  four  months,  he  assured  me  that,  bye 
and  large,  he  only  made  a  paltry  ten  per  cent, 
on  his  transactions. 

However,  I  paid  him  the  cheque  and  was 
glad  to  be  rid  of  him,  because  I  feared  that 
this  affair  might  come  to  the  ears  of  my 
trustees,  and  would  assuredly  not  influence  them 
in  my  favour. 

In  the  Bullingdon  Club  I  had  enfranchised 
the  ladder  at  one  bound  and  stood  almost  on 
the  topmost  rung.  The  position  was  an 
enviable  one  from  certain  points  of  view, 
from  the  ground,  for  instance  ;  but  as  a 
practical  experience  it  was  calculated  to 
produce     gi     g^iddiness     which     might     provq 


i64  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

serious  to  the  climber.  As  one  was  there, 
one  had  to  hold  on  to  prevent  a  fall,  and 
holding  on  was  rather  trying  work  to  an 
income  of  five  thousand. 

These  were  the  most  enjoyable  aspects  of 
the  picture.  On  the  other  hand,  the  depriva- 
tion of  my  scholarship,  and  the  patent  care- 
lessness of  my  way  of  living  incurred  for  me 
the  enmity  of  the  dons,  who  never  failed  to 
make  me  feel  the  weight  of  their  authority. 
I  was  always  in  some  collegiate  trouble, 
frequently  "gated, "  and  often  publicly  made 
to  feel  small  by  the  most  pointed  remarks 
made  to  me  in  ''  lecture.  " 

So  irksome  did  they  become  in  time  that  I 
made  up  my  mind  to  leave  Oxford  at  the  end 
of  the  term,  to  shake  the  dust  of  the  University 
from  my  feet,  to  experience  the  new  enjoy- 
ment of  being  entirely  my  own  master. 

At  Christmas  I  returned  to  Walcote,  no 
longer  a  son  of  Alma  Mater.  I  by  no  means 
regretted  the  time  I  had  spent  there,  if  only 
for  the  friends  I  had  made,  and  I  was  shrewd 
enough  to  see  that  in  after  years,  when  the 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  165 

precise  details  of  my  University  career  had 
been  forgotten  by  all  except  a  few,  it  might 
stand  me  in  some  advantage  to  regard  myself 
as  an  "  Oxford  man. "  It  is  a  term  of  sweet 
vagueness,  and  without  any  addition  carries 
with  it  a  scholarly  flavour  of  "  double  firsts  " 
and  "  Craven  Scholarships.  " 

At  Walcote  I  found  things  pretty  dull. 
Winifred  was  there  in  a  moping  and  irritable 
condition,  Miss  Tennant  was  also  there,  cold 
and  proper  as  ever.  It  was  too  soon  yet  to 
entertain  friends  at  the  house,  and  there  was 
practically  nothing  but  shooting  and  hunting 
to  occupy  us.  I  made  an  abortive  attempt 
to  pose  as  a  country  gentleman,  and  interest 
myself  in  the  tenants.  But  this  only  bored 
me,  and  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was 
not,  as  yet  at  any  rate,  my  affair. 

The  only  tenant  who  interested  me  was 
spelled  differently,  and  her  other  name  was 
Bianca.  I  used  to  amuse  myself  by  watching 
her,  and  her  extraordinary  character  and 
beauty  took  a  strong  possession  of  me.  I 
seldom  saw  her   except  when  my  sister  wag 


I^  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

present,  and  therefore  I  could  not  discover  in 
the  least  what  were  her  feelings  towards  myself. 
I  only  know  that,  while  I  was  watching,  I  saw 
— or  rather,  I  was  aware  that  she  also  was 
studying  me.  She  appeared  to  be  just  as  she 
had  always  been,  and  no  visible  sign  betrayed 
what,  if  anything,  was  taking  place  within  her. 
But  yet  I,  and  only  I,  knew  that  I  was  the 
subject  of  her  meditations.  I  cannot  say  that 
this  knowledge  was  altogether  pleasant.  But 
in  youth  the  spirit  of  adventure,  the  fascination 
of  the  unknown,  is  always  strong,  and  I  was 
irresistibly  allured  to  a  voyage  of  discovery 
in  the  mysterious  region  of  this  woman. 

My  cousin  Wynne,  who  had  profited  by  my 
father's  death  to  the  extent  of  a  considerable 
legacy,  was  staying  with  us.  He  was  unable 
to  see  anything  remarkable  about  Bianca,  as 
she  was  now  generally  called.  He  said  he 
considered  her  a  very  pleasant,  very  pre- 
possessing, and  very  intelligent  woman,  and 
thought  that  her  cold  demeanour  was  due  to 
her  somewhat  strange  position.  From  being, 
so  to  speak,  Winifred's  governess,  she  had  now 


TJNIVF.HS.TTY  g 

A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  167; 

to  assume  the  position  of  companion,  and  the 
difficulty  of  shaking  off  the  sense  of  the  old 
relationship  affected  both  us  and  her,  so  as  to 
make  the  transition  difficult.  I  did  not  con- 
tradict Wynne,  who  may  have  been  right,  but 
I  had  my  own  opinion.  To  give  Wynne  his 
due,  he  did  not  seem  to  experience  the  difficulty 
which  Winifred  and  I  felt.  He  chatted  freely 
and  made  himself  quite  amiable  to  Bianca,  and 
she  responded  with  the  perfection  of  punctilious 
politeness — but  nothing  more.  Never  for  one 
instant  did  she  allow  her  individuality  to  peep 
out  from  its  beautifully  polished  shell. 

One  afternoon  I  returned  about  four  o'clock 
from  a  long  tramp  round  the  estate  with  my 
gun.  Winifred  and  Percy  had  gone  down  to 
the  village  on  some  business  or  other,  and 
Miss  Tennant  was  alone  in  the  drawing-room. 
She  was  sitting  in  the  window-seat  of  the  bay- 
window  looking  fixedly  before  her,  her  hands 
clasped  tightly  in  her  lap.  The  tea  was  on  a 
table  near  her,  but  it  was  untouched.  I  had 
pulled  off  my  heavy  boots  and  put  on  a  pair  of 
30ft  slippers,  and  it  was  not  till  I  had  entered 


i68  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

well  into  the  room  that  she  saw  me.  She  gave 
a  slight  start,  and  then  in  her  usual  placid 
tone,  asked  if  I  would  have  some  tea.  I 
accepted,  and  took  a  place  beside  her  on  the 
window-seat. 

The  light  was  fading  fast,  and  we  talked  a 
little  while  the  dusk  gathered.  Suddenly  a 
strange  impulse  seized  me  to  try  if  this  woman 
had  any  emotions  within  that  impenetrable 
exterior. 

I  caught  her  hand  as  it  lay  on  her  lap,  and 
turning  towards  her, — 

"  Bianca,"  I  said,  "  why  are  you  always  so 
cold  to  me  ?  "     Can't  you  see  that — that—" 

I  hesitated,  partly  of  intention,  and  partly] 
because  no  word  would  come  easily.  The 
touch  of  her  hand  had  made  a  tremulous 
giddiness  pass  over  me,  which  left  me  para- 
lyzed. 

She  looked  at  me  with  inscrutable  eyes  for 
^,a  moment,  then,  clasping  me  violently  about 
the  neck,  drew  me  towards  her  and  bit  my  lip 
till  I  could  have  cried  out. 

^*  Horace,  I  want  you  !     I  will  have  you  1 " 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  169 

she  said  in  her  throat,  not  relaxing  her 
bite. 

I  could  not  speak,  and  we  remained  so  for 
many  seconds  do  not  know  what  might 
have  happened,  for  the  passion  had  mounted 
up  into  my  head  and  drowned  all  my  reason. 

At  that  moment  the  sound  of  Winifred  and 
Percy  returning  reached  us.  In  a  moment 
Bianca  was  in  her  old  position,  and  when  the 
lamp  was  lighted  immediately  afterwards, 
nothing  but  an  unusually  briUiancy  in  her  eyes 
remained  to  indicate  what  had  taken  place. 
Even  I,  as  I  looked  at  her,  could  hardly 
believe  but  that  I  had  dreamed  it. 

"  Your  lip  is  bleeding,  Horace,''  Winifred 
said. 

"  Is  it  ?  My  gun  went  off  and  kicked  me  in 
the  mouth,"  I  said,  as  I  wiped  my  lip  with  my 
handkerchief. 

When  I  went  to  bed  that  night,  and  thought 
over  this  incident,  I  began  to  be  afraid.  I 
called  to  mind  the  behaviour  of  Bianca  since 
the  time  when  I  first  knew  her,  or  took  any 
notice  of  her,  and  adding  one  small  thing  to 


170  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

another,  I  was  forced  to  the  conclusion  that 
her  heart  was  set  upon  becoming  the  mistress 
of  Walcote.  The  more  I  thought,  the  more 
certain  did  I  feel  that  this  was  so,  and  it  put 
fear  into  me.  I  perceived  that  she  was  a 
woman  whose  ambitions  would  carry  her  any 
length,  and  whose  powers  of  fascination  were 
so  great  that  it  would  need  a  strong  will  to 
resist.  I  had  not  a  strong  will.  I  did  not 
deceive  myself  upon  that  point,  and  I  realized 
that  it  would  be  dangerous,  if  not  fatal,  to 
allow  myself  to  come  under  her  influence.  All 
the  more  that,  since  that  kiss,  I  was  possessed 
with  a  burning  desire  for  her,  and  was  on  the 
point  more  than  once  of  deciding  to  let  myself 
go  and  take  my  chance.  She  was,  of  course, 
older  than  I,  but  the  disparity  was  not  great, 
as  she  was  probably  no  more  than  twenty-four 
or  twenty-five.  She  had  always  looked  the 
same  for  the  past  five  years,  and  was  of  a  kind 
that  would  remain  the  same  for  the  next  ten 
years.  Therefore  in  that  matter  there  was  no 
serious  obstacle.  All  the  more,  then,  had  I  to 
beware  of  her.      Luckily,   Providence,   in  the 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  171 

fotm  of  my  other  love  affairs,  came  to  my  aid  ; 
I  thought  of  Nelly,  and  more  especially  of 
Bella,  and  the  memory  of  them  helped  me  in 
my  struggle  against  Bianca. 

All  the  same,  I  was  none  too  sure  of  myself, 
and  the  only  chance  of  escape  lay  in  flight.  I 
spent  many  of  the  night  hours  in  trying  to 
discover  some  means  of  getting  away  from 
Walcote,  and  breaking  up  our  establishment. 
Although  this  would  have  been  easy  enough 
to  do,  yet  it  lacked  a  decent  excuse,  and  I 
dreaded  to  allow  anyone  to  guess,  and  Bianca 
to  know,  the  reason  of  so  sudden  a  resolution. 

The  next  few  days  I  used  every  precaution 
to  avoid  being  left  alone  with  Bianca.  Al- 
though I  flattered  myself  that  I  managed  it 
with  tact,  yet  I  could  not  but  perceive  that 
she  was  well  aware  of  my  purpose,  and  by  this 
she  knew  her  own  power.  The  chief  difficulty 
in  the  matter  of  leaving  Walcote  for  any 
length  of  time  was  Winifred.  It  would 
neither  have  been  quite  "  the  thing  "  from  the 
world's  point  of  view  for  her  to  stay  with  me 
in    rooms    in    London,    nor    quite    convenient 


17:8  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

from  my  point  of  view  ;  and  therefore  as  a 
companion  seemed  to  be  required,  there  was 
no  reason  for  getting  rid  of  Bianca. 

From  this  dilemma  a  dea  ex  machina,  in  thq 
form  of  Bella  from  her  town  house,  came  toi 
deliver  me.  A  letter  was  received  inviting 
Winifred  to  make  a  long  stay  with  her.  She 
said  she  knew  Winnie  must  be  very  dull,  while 
at  the  same  time  I  was  tied  down.  She  there- 
fore proposed  that  Winnie  should  come  to  her 
and  stay  as  long  as  she  liked,  while  I  was  to 
do  as  I  pleased,  stay  with  them  whenever  I 
cared  to  do  so,  or  go  where  it  suited  me,  as 
Winnie  would  be  well  looked  after  and  properly 
chaperoned.  And  there  was  a  half  hint  that 
it  might  perhaps  be  said  that  Miss  Tennant, 
although  a  most  estimable  person,  she  under- 
stood, was  hardly  of  an  age  or  position  to 
chaperone  a  young  unmarried  girl. 

There  was  much  truth  in  what  she  said, 
and  after  consulting  with  Winifred,  who  was 
overjoyed  at  the  prospect,  we  decided  to 
break  up  the  establishment  at  Walcote,  leaving 
the  care  of  the  estate  in  the  hands  of  a  most 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  173 

able  steward,  who  had  been  selected  by  the 
trustees. 

I  was  far  too  much  of  a  coward  to  tell 
Bianca  that  we  should  not  require  her  assist- 
ance or  company  any  longer,  and  I  therefore 
arranged  to  depart  hurriedly  from  Walcote, 
and  let  old  Mr.  Brickwood  Hague  Temple,  who 
would  not  turn  a  hair,  break  the  news  to  her.  I 
also  agreed  to  give  Bianca  a  good  lump  sum 
down  as  a  mark  of  our  appreciation,  but  the  sum 
I  at  first  named  was  mercilessly  pared  down  by 
the  trustees,  who  had  not  the  same  promptings 
to  be  generous  that  belonged  to  me. 

And  so,  in  a  short  while  the  establishment 
at  Walcote  was  broken  up  :  Winifred  went  to 
the  St.  John- Elliots,  I  to  chambers  in  Picca- 
dilly, and  Bianca  to — I  did  not  know  where, 
and  only  hoped  that  it  might  be  a  very  long 
way  off. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

As  soon  as  I  had  settled  down  in  my  new 
abode,  I  set  about  enjoying  a  free  life  as 
heartily  as  it  was  in  me.  I  found  it  necessary 
to  belong  to  two  or  three  clubs,  not  political,  I 
need  scarcely  say.  To  the  better  ones  to 
which  I  aspired  some  time  had  to  elapse  before 
I  could  obtain  election. 

Being  on  a  visit  to  the  St.  John-Elliots  ouq 
afternoon,  I  found  Captain  Abinger  there.  I 
mentioned  the  subject  to  him.  He  told  me 
that  there  was  a  new  club  just  formed  which 
was  patronized  by  all  the  smart  men  about 
town,  but  which  still  had  some  vacancies  for 
members.  He  himself  was  a  member,  and 
would  be  happy  to  put  my  name  up  at  once. 
The  name  of  the  club  was  the  Junior  Turf.  I 
explained  that  I  had  had  no  experience  of  the 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  175 

Turf,  but  he  said  that  this  would  not  matter  in 
the  least — it  was  only  a  name — and  any 
omission  on  my  part  in  the  direction  of  sport 
could  very  easily  be  put  right  during  the  ensuing 
season.  Indeed,  he  volunteered  most  good- 
naturedly  to  show  me  the  ropes,  saying,  with  a 
laugh,  that  this  course  would  save  me  a  good 
deal  of  money  and  more  temper. 

Accordingly  my  name  was  put  down,  and  in 
a  very  short  time,  a  few  days,  in  fact,  I  was 
duly  elected. 

I  found  the  club  fully  to  bear  out  it^ 
description  as  a  social  club.  Everyone  knew 
everybody,  and  there  was  none  of  the  stiffness 
to  be  found  in  some  of  the  older  and  more 
famous  clubs.  I  immediately  gained  a  dozerj 
of  friends  and  several  score  of  acquaintances. 
Some  were  young  men  of  my  own  age  or  there- 
about, some  were  men  considerably  older,  of  the 
type  of  Captain  Abinger.  Everybody  was  very] 
friendly,  and  wine  bills  ran  high.  Amusements 
of  many  sorts  were  the  order  of  the  day. 
Billiards  and  card-playing  were  the  chief 
recreations,  while   if  anyone   wanted   to   know 


176  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

anything  or  everything  about  horses  from  the 
backers'  or  market  point  of  view,  he  obtained 
a  Hberal  education  by  Hstening  to  the  smoking- 
room  conversation.  In  a  very  short  time  I  was 
well  in  the  swim.  I  found  myself  engaged  in 
numbers  of  billiard  matches  for  fair  wagers, 
sitting  up  till  two — club  closing  time — at  poker 
or  piquet  in  the  card  room,  and  carrying  habit- 
ually a  betting  book  in  my  pocket. 

One  of  the  institutions  of  the  club  was  a 
ladies'  afternoon.  We  professed  to  have  im- 
bibed modern  opinions  on  the  subject  of  women, 
and  no  longer  made  the  club  the  holy  of  holies 
in  which  nothing  female  might  set  foot.  I  dc 
not  think,  however,  that  the  ladies'  day  was 
quite  the  success  it  should  have  been.  At  first 
members  brought  their  wives  or  their  sisters. 
But  other  members  began  to  bring  other  men's 
wives  and  other  men's  sisters,  with  the  result 
that  the  appearances  of  blood  relations  became 
fewer  and  fewer.  This  is  the  chief  defect  in 
clubs  of  this  nature  which  attempt  to  introduce 
the  feminine  element.      Women  appear  to  be 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  177 

unable  to  take  the  same  social  standpoint  as 
men.  A  man  may  belong  to  a  club  to  which 
other  men,  whom  he  would  not  be  seen  talking 
to,  belong,  and  yet  lose  nothing  of  his  position. 
With  women  it  is  different.  Virtuous  and 
honest  women  (in  the  sense  of  Brantome^  are 
unable  to  meet  on  the  same  ground  women 
upon  whose  character  the  breath  of  slander 
breathes  hard,  without  feeling  that  they  are 
thereby  in  danger  of  losing  caste  ;  and  difficult 
as  is  this  position  to  explain,  it  is  still  harder 
to  explain  it  away.  It  exists,  and  no  one  has 
been  clever  enough  yet  to  find  its  reason  nor  to 
discover  a  satisfactory  solution. 

In  the  early  days  I  used  to  invite  Bella  and 
Winifred  to  tea  on  these  afternoons,  and  wil? 
not  deny  that  I  was  very  proud  of  the  success  I 
made  with  them.  My  tea  party  was  always  an 
object  of  great  interest,  and  we  had  a  large 
circle  of  men  about  us. 

Winifred  at  first  enjoyed  herself  enormously 
in  all  innocence,  and  Bella  was  clearly  quite  at 
home.  But  one  day  when  I  had  given  the  usual 
invitation,  Winifred  said, — 


178  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"  I  don't  think  I'll  come  to-day,  Horace/' 

"  Why  not  ? "  I  asked.  "  Have  you  any 
other  engagement  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  answered,  "  but — but  I  don't 
think  I  quite  care  to,  Horace.  You  don't 
mind,  do  you  ?  " 

I  pressed  her  for  further  explanation,  and 
then  the  truth  came  out.  She  had  been  struck 
by  the  appearance  and  behaviour  of  some  other 
women  there,  and  did  not  like  it  quite.  "  In 
fact,"  she  said.  "  I  don't  think  they  were  very 
respectable." 

I  appealed  to  Bella  for  her  opinion. 

"  Do  you  know,  Horace,"  she  said,  "  I  think 
perhaps  it  is  not  quite  the  place  for  Winnie. 
Not  to  put  too  fine  a  point  upon  it,  there  were 
two  or  three  very  notorious  women  there  last 
time — '  actresses  '  I  believe  they  would  describe 
themselves.  It  wouldn't  matter  for  me,  you 
know,  being  married,  but  with  Winnie  it 
is  different.  When  she  is  married  she  can  do 
as  she  chooses." 

I  had  not  quite  expected  this  tone  from 
Bella  ;  but  I  judged  that  she  knew  what  she 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  179 

was  talking  about,  and  that  even  the  smart 
set  has  its  moral  code,  illogical  though  it 
be. 

I  therefore  ceased  to  invite  them,  and  took 
Nelly,  who  was  as  great  a  success  as  the  others. 
She  was  well  known  by  appearance  and  name 
to  all  the  men  in  the  club,  and  numerous  were 
the  requests  I  received  for  a  personal  intro- 
duction. By  Nelly's  advice  I  made  a  favour  of 
it,  and  selected  the  favoured  ones  according  to 
her  instructions  which  were  simple. 

"  It's  no  good  introducing  any  Johnny  to  me 
if  he  hasn't  got  plenty  of  *  money,'  "  she  said  ; 
"  or  unless  he  is  thick  with  managers.  The 
others  are  very  jolly  boys,  no  doubt,  but 
they're  not  worth  wasting  time  over." 

I  was  sorry  to  see  Nelly's  mercenary  side 
developing  so  rapidly  ;  but  she  was  quite  open 
with  me,  and  this  fact  gave  me  confidence  in 
her  integrity. 

"  Look  here,  boy,"  she  said  ;  "  you  have  been 
the  best  friend  a  woman  ever  got  or  is  likely  to 
get.  I  owe  you  everything,  and  I  don't  forget 
it.    You  need  have  no  fear  about -me.     But  that's 


i8o  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

just  the  reason  why  I  asked  you  what  I  did. 
Business  is  business,  and  this  is  simply  a 
matter  of  business.  It  does  me  good  to  be  seen 
with  these  rich  men  after  me.  They  have 
plenty  of  money  to  chuck  about,  and  will  chuck 
it  on  me  so  long  as  I  let  them.  I  treat  them 
all  like  monkeys  on  a  stick,  and  don't  care 
'  that  ! '  for  any  of  them.  It  is  a  game  of  decep- 
tion in  which  I  am  always  the  winner.  But 
if  you  saw  me  wasting  my  time  with  a  man 
who  hadn't  got  any  money  to  spend  on  me, 
you  might  then  have  reason  to  be  really 
alarmed.  There  would  be  something  in  it 
then.  You're  the  only  boy  I  love,  and  I'm 
going  to  stick  to  you  as  long  as  you  stick  to 
me. 

There  was  clearly  a  great  deal  in  what  Nelly 
said,  and  I  was  satisfied  that  she  meant  it. 
The  only  fear  I  had  was  that,  with  her  am- 
bition, the  offer  to  be  made  some  day  might  be 
too  tempting  for  her  to  resist,  and  I  dreaded  to 
think  of  losing  her,  for  I  was  really  very  fond 
of  her. 

If   anyone    should    express    any    surprise    at 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  i8i 

my  seeming  inconstancy  and  inconsistency  in 
having  two,  if  not  more,  women  on  hand  with 
both  of  whom  I  professed  to  be  in  love  at  the 
same  time,  I  can  only  say  that  either  my  nature 
and  his  are  very  different,  or  he  is  humbugging 
himself  and  trying  to  humbug  others  with  some 
old  cant  about  the  possibility  of  loving  but  one 
and  but  once. 

I  declare  my  opinion  now  that  the  idea 
is  only  romantic  nonsense.  There  is  nothing 
else  in  human  nature  that  acts  in  this  single 
manner.  It  would  be  as  sensible  to  say  that 
because  one  liked  strawberries,  therefore  one 
could  not  also  like  pineapples  and  caviar.  I 
am  not  arguing  that  love  is  so  simple  a  matter 
as  that  of  taste,  or  comparing  the  two  from  an 
ethical  standpoint.  As  a  sensation  it  is  far 
more  complex  and  indefinite,  but  for  that  very 
reason  it  is  more  impossible  to  regulate  it  by 
canons  and  codes.  If  it  be  impossible  to  argue 
about  and  to  give  reason  for  a  matter  of  taste. 
a  question  of  love  is  far  more  illogical  and 
unreasonable.  It  is  a  thing  entirely  personal, 
and  none  but  the  lover  can  say  if  he  loves.     For 


18?  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

my  own  part  I  can  only  declare  that  I  was 
entirely  and  equally  in  love  with  Nelly  and 
Bella  at  the  same  time.  Each  in  their  own 
way  moved  me  with  emotions  that  have  no 
other  name  but  love  to  express  them,  and  it 
matters  not  at  all  whether  it  was  a  wise  or 
foolish,  an  innocent  or  guilty  passion. 

No  native  of  a  country  where  polygamy  was 
the  custom  would  question  the  possibility  of 
being  equally  devoted  to  two  wives,  or  more, 
and  while  it  would  be  a  piece  of  stupid 
arrogance  to  assert  that  the  Eastern  is  less 
capable  of  true  love  than  the  Western,  it  is 
impossible  to  deny  to  the  latter  emotions  as 
comprehensive  as  those  possessed  by  the 
former. 

The  difficulty  in  the  East  is  that  the  wives 
live  together  in  the  husband's  house,  and  thence 
much  trouble  sometimes  comes.  The  Western 
custom  is  better,  for  as  long  as  the  devotion 
of  the  man  is  in  each  case  thorough,  by 
careful  management  the  respective  women  need 
have  no  suspicions  to  cause  jealousies  and 
quarrels. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  183 

I  fancy  that  I  am  only  a  fair  specimen  of 
an  average  man,  and  I  decline  to  believe  that 
there  is  in  me  anything  extraordinary  or 
aberrated.  I  am  perhaps  merely  rather  more 
candid. 

I  was  very  much  devoted  to  Nelly,  with 
whom  I  held  a  more  intimate  relationship  than 
I  occupied  with  Bella.  The  latter  had  yet  to 
be  won,  and  I  was  not  by  any  means  certain  of 
ultimate  victory.  Indeed  on  account  of  certain 
moral  scruples  in  her  case,  I  often  deliberately 
adopted  dilatory  tactics,  and  dreaded  to  risk  a 
decisive  engagement.  I  knew  that  she  was 
fond  of  me  to  a  certain  extent,  but  I  was 
doubtful  as  to  how  far  I  might  presume  on 
this  affection.  Whenever  occasion  served,  she 
permitted  me  to  kiss  her  and  to  make  love  to 
her,  but  she  had  as  yet  given  me  no  arranged 
opportunity  to  press  my  suit  further. 

One  evening  I  went  down  with  the  idea  of 
seeing  Winifred,  to  whom  I  had  some  matters 
of  family  business  to  communicate.  On  arrival 
I  found  Bella  alone.      She  was  lying  on  the 


i84  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

sofa,  and  a  flavour  of  smelling-salts  was  in  the 
room. 

"  IVe  got  a  most  frightful  headache,  Horace," 
she  said  faintly. 

I  went  up  and  kissed  her  on  the  temples, 
and  she  made  no  movement  except  to  close  her 
eyes  for  a  minute. 

"  If  I  hadn't,  you  would  have  found  no  one 
at  home,"  she  continued.  "  We  were  going  to 
the  Opera  to-night,  we  three  and  Abinger.  I 
didn't  like  to  disappoint  Winnie,  so  I  have 
stayed  behind,  while  the  others  have  gone.  I 
thought  Douglas  would  be  quite  sufficient 
chaperon  under  the  circumstances.  I  did  not 
know,  till  it  was  too  late  to  wire  to  you,  how 
bad  I  should  be.  Stroke  my  forehead,  will 
you  ?     I  think  it  will  do  me  good." 

I  obeyed  readily,  and  allowed  myself  the 
delightful  sensation  of  just  brushing  with  the 
finger  tips  her  smooth  satiny  forehead,  while  I 
stooped  forward  and  drew  in  with  slow  long 
breaths  the  scent  of  her  hair. 

We  were  silent  for  some  time. 

"  I  feel  better  already,"  she  said  at  length, 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  185 

"  but  I  must  keep  very  quiet,  although  I  know 
that  the  headache  is  past  its  worst,  and  will 
go  away  in  time.  Salmon  and  champagne 
never  does  agree  with  me.  Go  on  strok- 
mg. 

The  touch  of  her  skin  and  hair  was  making 
my  nerves  tingle  with  such  irritability  that 
at  last  I  was  unable  to  forbear  stooping  down 
and  kissing  her. 

She  smiled  faintly. 

"  I'm  afraid  this  isn't  good  for  boys,  and  I 
shall  have  to  make  you  leave  off." 

I  promised  to  restrain  my  feelings,  and  was 
allowed  to  continue. 

"  I  am  rather  glad  of  this  opportunity  to  say 
something  to  you,  Horace,  which  I  have  wished 
to  say  for  some  time." 

I  wondered  what  it  might  me,  and  felt  my 
heart  beat  faster. 

"  It  is  about  Winnie." 

I  was  disappointed,  but  contrived  not  to 
show  it. 

"  Yes  ?  "  I  said. 

"  You  would  have  no  objection  to  allowing 


i86  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

her  to  marry  if  she  wished  to  ?  "  she  said  after 
a  pause. 

"  I  wouldn^t  interfere  with  Winnie  doing 
anything  in  reason,  but  who  is  the  man  ?  " 

"  Say  Captain  Abinger." 

She  looked  at  me  rather  curiously, 

I  was  in  a  dilemma.  I  did  not  know  how  to 
answer,  I  disliked  Abinger,  and  the  idea  of 
Winifred  marrying  him  was  very  distasteful. 
But  I  knew  that  a  close  intimacy  existed 
between  him  and  Bella,  and  I  was  fearful  of 
saying  anything  which  might  give  her 
offence. 

"  It  is  really,  you  know,"  I  began  with  hesita- 
tion, "  a  very  awkward  thing  for  me  to  say 
positively  in  a  case  like  this  where  the  idea  is 
quite  new  to  me.     I — I — " 

She  checked  me  with  a  keen  look,  raising  her 
head  a  little  from  the  pillow. 

"  Why  don't  you  like  Abinger  ?  " 

That  was  very  straight  to  the  point,  and  I 
felt  tied  up  for  an  answer. 

"  I  didn't  say  I  didn't  like  him." 

"  It  is  quite  obvious  that  you  don't." 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  187 

It  troubled  me  to  hear  this,  as  I  had  been 
under  the  behef  that  no  one  could  have  guessed 
from  my  manner  that  I  did  not  thoroughly 
enjoy  his  society. 

"  To  begin  with,"  I  said,  "  I  realy  know 
nothing  about  him." 

"  But  I  do,"  she  answered  quickly. 

"  Yes,  of  course,  but — " 

"  I  see.  I  am  not  to  be  trusted.  Please 
take  your  hands  from  my  head,  it  irritates 
me!" 

I  obeyed  sadly. 

"  I  am  good  enough,"  she  went  on,  "  to  take 
your  sister  about  and  all  that,  but  am  not  a 
proper  person  to  form  a  judgment  in  a  matter 
of  this  sort.  If  that  is  the  case,  we'll  say  no 
more  about  it.  I  don't  expect  they  will  be 
home  till  past  twelve,  so  it  is  impossible  to  see 
Winifred  to-night.  You  had  better  call  and 
take  her  out  to-morrow." 

•    I   felt  very   much   cast   down,   and   saw   the 
fatal  want  of  tact  that  I  had  displayed. 

I  tried  to  remedy  the  mistake.  I  protested 
that  I  meant  nothing  of  the  kind  ;  that  I  knew 


i88  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

she  had  only  Winifred's  interests  at  heart  ;  that 
she  was  the  best  possible  judge  ;  and  that  far 
from  disliking  Abinger,  I  thought  him  a  most 
delightful  fellow,  and  should  be  very  glad  to 
have  him  for  a  brother-in-law.  In  fact  I  went 
a  great  deal  further  than  I  need  have  gone. 

"  Why  didn't  you  say  so  at  first,  Horace? 
You  boys  are  so  silly  in  not  making  up  your 
minds  at  once.  If  you  have  no  objection,  but 
rather  the  opposite,  there  is  nothing  more  to  be 
said." 

"  But,"  I  urged,  "Winnie  never  mentioned 
this  to  me." 

"  No,  naturally.  She  did  not  like  to.  She 
asked  me  to  break  the  ice.  Abinger  wanted  to 
come  to  you  himself,  but  Winnie  thought  it 
would  be  better  for  me  to  do  it.  Put  a  little 
more  eau  de  cologne  on  :  my  head  is  so  much 
better,  that  it  will  be  all  gone  in  a  little  time." 

I  obeyed  joyfully,  and  once  more  the  electric 
touch  made  my  blood  boil. 

"  If  you  have  nothing  to  do," — there  was  a 
touch  of  under-meaning  in  the  way  these  words 
were  said — "you  might  stay  till  Winnie  comes 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  189 

back.  It  is  not  strictly  proper,  perhaps,  but 
we'll  risk  that." 

She  looked  at  me,  as  she  said  these  last 
words,  with  eyes  in  which  there  hovered  a  spirit 
of  allurement,  a  will-o'-wisp,  perhaps,  enticing 
me  to  perdition.     I  kissed  her  again. 

She  pushed  my  face  away  playfully. 

"  Now  if  boys  are  going  to  begin  that  kind  of 
thing,  I  shall  have  to  send  them  home.  It  is 
only  if  you  promise  to  behave  properly  that  you 
will  be  allowed  to  stay." 

I  promised,  and  spent  a  couple  of  wonderful 
hours  like  a  tamest  Tantalus  willing  to  endure 
through  eternity. 

Soon  after  twelve  they  returned,  and  ex- 
pressed some  surprise  at  seeing  me.  Captain 
Abinger  had  left  them  at  Covent  Garden. 

"  Horace  wanted  to  see  you  most  particularly, 
so  I  made  him  stop.  And,  Winnie,  I  have 
pumped  him  on  a  certain  subject,  and  he 
makes  no  objection  whatever. 

"  You  dear  old  boy,"  said  Winifred,  kissing 
me.  "  You  make  me  so  happy.  I  knew  you 
couldn't  find  it  in  your  heart  to  refuse  me. ' ' 


190  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"  How  sweet  and  powerful  brotherly  love 
is  ! "  said  Bella  to  her  husband. 

"  Ah,  yes,  very.  How  is  your  headache,  my 
dear  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Almost  entirely  gone." 

"  That's  far  quicker  than  usual.  Those 
soda-mint  tabloids  I  gave  you  are  excellent 
things.     I  expect  that  is  what  did  it." 

"  I  expect  so,"  Bella  saii 


CHAPTER   XV. 

In  the  course  of  the  following  morning,  Abinger 
came  into  the  club  where  I  was  sitting  reading 
the  Sportsman.  He  came  straight  up  to  me 
and  shook  me  by  the  hand  in  an  effusive 
manner. 

"  I  shall  never  be  able  to  repay  you, 
Manners/'  he  said.  "  I  love  your  sister  truly, 
but  I  had  hardly  hoped  to  obtain  your  con- 
sent. I'm  a  worthless  sort  of  fellow,  I  know, 
and  lots  of  people  say  hard  things  of  me.  I 
know  now  that  you  don't  believe  them.  I 
am  going  to  prove  to  you,  and  to  them,  that 
I'm  not  such  a  bad  lot  as  I  am  made  out." 

These  remarks  came  to  me  with  some 
surprise.  As  a  matter  of  fact  I  had  not  heard 
any  harm,  if  I  had  not  heard  any  good,  of 
Abinger  ;  and  my  dislike  was  inborn  in  myself. 


192  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOU 

"  I  suppose/'  he  added,  "  that  the  trustees 
won't  make  any  difficulty  ?  " 

I  thought  to  myself  that  they  might,  but  I 
didn't  think  it  necessary  to  say  so.  If  anything, 
I  secretly  hoped  they  would,  and  by  this  means 
I  should  get  all  the  credit  and  none  of  the 
blame.  I  wished  to  advance  myself  in  Bella's 
good  graces,  and  I  felt  that  Abinger  had  con- 
siderable influence  in  this  directon.  At  the 
same  time  I  would  have  been  glad  if  Winifred's 
marriage  could  be  put  off  for  some  time  in  the 
hope  that  it  might  in  the  end  not  take  place. 
When  I  should  attain  my  majority  I  should 
become  trustee  for  my  sister,  and  there  was 
still  some  nine  months  to  run  before  I  was 
twenty-one. 

I  told  Abinger  I  could  not  of  course  say 
for  certain,  but  that  I  would  use  whatever 
influence  with  them  I  possessed.  I  presumed 
that  the  settlements  would  be  satisfactory, 
but  I  did  not  at  present  wish  to  enter  into 
questions  of  that  sort. 

"  It's  awfully  good  of  you,  I'm  sure,  old 
chap,"   Abinger  replied.      ''  I   don't   anticipate 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  193 

any  real  difficulty  on  that  score,  but,  as 
perhaps  you  know,  my  solid  property  is  mostly 
in  the  nature  of  expectations  or  reversions, 
and  I  only  have  my  army  pay  and  an  allow- 
ance— not  a  very  great  business  altogether, 
but  sufficient  for  ordinary  living  with 
economy." 

I  knew  nothing  of  this,  having  never  taken 
the  trouble  to  inquire  into  Abinger's  affairs. 
I  was  really  curious  to  know  exactly  how 
matters  stood,  but  thought  it  best  at  the 
present  juncture  to  leave  the  matter  alone. 
Apart  from  simple  curiosity,  I  took  little 
interest  in  the  question.  Of  course  I  desired 
that  Winifred  should  be  properly  provided  for  ; 
but  I  was  born  lazy,  and  I  argued  that  if  my 
very  hard-headed,  not  to  say  hard-hearted, 
trustees  were  satisfied  with  the  arrangements, 
there  could  be  no  possible  reason  for  any 
objection  on  my  part. 

As  far  as  I  was  concerned  the  matter  was 
at  an  end.  The  engagement  was  announced 
publicly,  and  excited  no  especial  notice.  A 
few  of  my  friends  and  acquaintances  in  con- 


194  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

versation  casually  asked  if  it  were  true  that 
Abinger  was  engaged  to  my  sister,  and  on  my 
saying,  "  Yes — why  ?  "  replied,  "  Oh,  nothing, 
only  I'd  thought  I'd  ask  you."  I  imagined  that 
this  was  mainly  due  to  an  interest  that 
Winifred  had  inspired  in  them,  and  the  inquiry 
was  a  way  of  ascertaining  whether  it  was  any 
use  pushing  their  intentions  further  with  her. 
My  cousin  Percy  Wynne,  however,  went  a 
little  further. 

"  What  do  you  know  of  Abinger  ?  "  he  said. 

"Nothing.  He  is  a  friend  of  the  St.  John- 
Elliots." 

"  And  what  do  you  know  of  the  St.  John- 
Elliots?" 

"  Nothing.  They  are  people  in  a  good 
position  in  society.  St.  John-Elliot  is  very 
well  connected." 

"  And  Madame—?" 

"  Is  St.  John-Ellot's  wife,"  I  answered. 

My  cousin  looked  at  me  hard  and  then 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Either  you  are  a  good  actor  or  a  bad 
listener,"  he  said. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOE  195 

I  asked  plainly  what  he  meant,  being  ready; 
to  champion  Bella  against  any  imputations. 
I  did  not  suppose  for  a  moment  that  my 
position  with  her  was  equivocal,  or  was  other 
than  became  a  woman  of  unblemished  repu- 
tation. I  was  not  more  blind  to  the  world's 
point  of  view  than  others  in  my  position, 
knowing  that  our  relationship  had  not  ex- 
ceeded the  limit  of  morality. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  can't  explain,"  he  said.  "  If 
you  are  really  as  blind  as  you  pretend  to  be, 
I  can  only  advise  you  to  be  cautious.  Only 
don't  be  surprised  if  you  hear  things  after- 
wards." 

"  I  should  not  be  surprised  at  anything  I 
heard,"  I  answered  with  an  attempt  at  irony, 
"  but  I  should  not  believe  it." 

My  cousin  declined  to  be  drawn  any  further 
on  the  subject,  and  never  referred  to  it  again. 

His  hints,  however,  gave  me  something  to 
think  of,  and  I  freely  confess  that  what  I 
thought  was  rather  pleasant  than  otherwise. 
I  did  not  think  of  Winifred,  having  eased 
myself  of  responsibility  on  that  account. 


196  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOU 

In  the  time  that  elapsed  before  Winifred's 
marriage,  Abinger  was  most  friendly  with  me, 
and  Bella  more  than  kind.  The  Captain  was 
always  with  me,  and  having  made  up  my  mind 
to  enjoy  life,  I  began  to  do  so  under  his  able 
guidance.  There  were  few  things  that  Abinger 
did  not  know  in  this  direction,  and  he  took 
infinite  pains  to  make  me  acquainted  with  every 
side  of  a  life  of  pleasure,  and  found  in  me  a 
fairly  apt  pupil.  His  experience  of  racing  was 
immense,  and  as  he  belonged  to  that  set 
which  is  commonly  known  as  the  "  clever 
division,"  I  brought  off  many  good  things, 
and  was  able  to  indulge  in  the  enjoyment  of 
plunging  without  taking  any  harm.  As  a  card- 
player  Abinger  was  almost  without  equal,  and 
under  his  skilful  tutelage  I  had  the  amusement 
of  playing  high,  and  yet  of  coming  no  serious 
cropper. 

Once  or  twice  during  my  initiation  into 
these  things  the  thought  of  Winifred  troubled 
me  for  a  moment,  and  I  wondered  what  would 
be  her  view  of  the  situation  if  she  knew  as 
much  of  the  familiarity  of  her  future  husband 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  197; 

witli  these  places  of  life  as  I.  Sometimes  the 
idea  occurred  to  me  of  saying  something  to 
Abinger  in  my  brotherly  capacity.  Yet  I 
reflected  that  to  do  so  would  savour  of  middle- 
class  narrow-mindedness  with  its  methodistical 
views  on  the  moralities. 

Perhaps  something  in  my  manner  on  one 
occasion  betrayed  what  was  passing  in  my 
mind,  for  Abinger  himself  referred  to  the 
subject. 

"  I  hope,"  he  said  with  some  sign  of 
hesitation,  "  that  all  this  kind  of  thing  doesn't 
make  you  think  the  worse  of  me  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit,  my  dear  fellow,"  I  answered 
heartily. 

"  I  thought  not,"  he  went  on,  "  otherwise  I 
should  have  been  a  perfect  fool  to  have  taken 
you  through  it.  It  shows  my  openness.  If 
I  had  wished  to  make  you  believe  that  I  was 
a  goody-goody  sort  of  fellow,  I  should  have 
done  very  differently.  But  I  like  to  run 
straight,  and  to  let  you  see  what  I  have  been. 
I  don't  think  I  am  any  the  worse  for  it.  On 
th^  contrary^  I  have  ha4  my  time,  and  know 


198  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

it  all.  It  has  no  longer  any  fascination  for  me, 
and  I  shall  be  only  too  glad  to  drop  it  for 
ever,  as  I  shall  in  a  few  weeks.  Of  course,  I 
know  you  won't  say  anything  to  your  sister. 
Women  can't  understand  the  man's  position 
in  this  matter.  A  man  who  has  been  through 
it  all,  and  has  not  gone  to  the  dogs  in  the 
process,  is  likely  to  make  a  far  better  husband. 
It  is  the  unknown  that  attracts,  and  the 
innocent  young  man  who  marries  in  his 
innocence  is  certain  to  go  a  mucker  one  day. 
As  for  me,  I'm  sick  of  it.  Never  again.  I 
shouldn't  be  doing  this  now  if  it  were  not  that 
I  wahted  to  arm  you,  Horace,  against  danger 
from  these  things,  and  I  know  that  no  man 
can  or  would  pilot  you  through  the  shoals  and 
rocks  as  I.  In  a  little  while  I  could  be  of 
no  service  to  you,  except  by  giving  advice 
which  is  not  worth  two-pence,  so  I  made 
up  my  mind  that  I  ought  to  do  it  at 
once,  for  I  shouldn't  like  to  see  you  come  a 
howler." 

I  was  very  much  pleased  with  this  caudour 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  199 

on  the  part  of  Abinger,  and  my  opinion  of  him 
was  raised  rather  than  lowered. 

Although,  as  I  said,  I  did  not  come  to  any- 
serious  harm  in  learning  my  experience,  which 
IS  generally  such  a  costly  article,  all  these 
things  could  not  be  done  without  a  good  deal 
of  expenditure,  and  I  found  myself  getting 
lamentably  short  of  money.  Five  thousand 
did  not  seem  to  go  as  far  as  I  imagined. 
However,  I  could  not  hold  my  hand  at  the 
present  moment,  and  I  made  up  my  mind 
to  economize  immediately  after  Winifred's 
marriage.  In  fact,  I  formed  an  idea  of  going 
abroad  for  six  months,  to  get  experience,  and, 
by  living  with  great  care,  to  economize  until  I 
came  into  my  property. 

The  trustees,  to  my  intense  surprise,  made 
not  much  difficulty  about  Winifred's  marriage. 
Abinger's  expectations,  which  were  consider- 
able, as  I  learnt,  appeared  to  satisfy  them, 
provided  Winnie  was  prepared,  as  she  was, 
meanwhile  to  accept  present  conditions. 
She  would  have  fifty  thousand  pounds  of  her 


2O0  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

own,  so  that  they  would  not  be  so  badly  off  in 
any  case. 

Just  as  Abinger  had  taken  me,  Bella  had 
taken  Winifred  in  hand,  and  had  initiated 
her  into  the  mystery  of  cutting  a  considerably 
better  figure  in  the  fashion  than  one's  actual 
income  might  appear  to  warrant.  She  had 
advised  her  to  keep  absolute  personal  control 
over  her  fifty  thousand  pounds,  and  not  to 
have  it  put  in  trust.  As  she  pointed  out,  an 
occasional  big  splash  with  economical  intervals 
was  much  more  effective  than  a  continued 
cramp  due  to  a  moderate  income.  This,  an 
entirely  personal  control  of  the  money  would 
enable  her  to  effect,  and,  in  addition,  she  had 
only  to  tide  over  the  time  till  Abinger  should 
come  into  his  expectations,  when  she  would 
be  really  well  off. 

In  due  time  the  wedding  took  place.  Of 
course,  Winifred  was  married  from  the  St. 
John-Elliots',  and  to  my  surprise  all  the 
newspapers  chronicled  it  as  a  very  fashionable 
wedding.  This  was  in  July,  and  coincided 
with  almost  the   end  of  the   London   season. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  201 

Whole  crowds  of  people  of  whom  I  did  not 
know  anything  came,  and  Winifred  received 
magnificent  presents  from  almost  strangers, 
which  was  duly  mentioned  in  the  papers. 

And  so  Winifred  and  Abinger  drove  away, 
and  in  due  time  the  guests  departed. 

"  You  will  stop  and  dine  with  us,  won't 
you,  Horace  ? "  Bella  said,  glancing  towards 
her  husband  in  between  the  words. 

"  Very  pleased  if  you  will,"  he  said.  "  I 
shall — er — have  to  go  up  to  the  House  to- 
night, the  Government  expect  an  important 
division." 

"  Oh,  nonsense,  Douglass,"  Bella  said,  almost 
petulantly.  "Your  vote  won't  make  any  differ- 
ence to  the  Government." 

"  Suppose  everyone  thought  the  same,  my 
dear.     Duty,  you  know — " 

"Well,  go  and  get  it  over,  and  come  back 
early,  then." 

"  Fm  afraid  that  is  not  within  my  dispensa- 
tion. The  twelve  o'clock  rule  has  been  sus- 
pended, and  it  may  be  late  before  the  division 
is    taken.     But   when    I    get    up    I    will    send 


202  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

you  a  message  as  to  how  late  it  is  likely  to 
be/' 

"Do,  please,"  Bella  said,  "  I  don't  want 
to  sit  up  half  the  night  for  you." 

"  But  you  needn't  sit  up,  my  dear." 

"  Somebody  must,  I  suppose,"  Bella  an- 
nounced, with  resignation. 

"  I  hardly  think  so  ;  but  I'll  tell  you  what. 
If  it  is  likely  to  be  very  late,  I'll  arrange  for 
a  bed  at  a  hotel,  or  at  my  club." 

"  No,  no,  don't  do  that.  I  don't  in  the 
least  mind  sitting  up,  Douglas." 

"  I  think  it  would  be  better,  my  dear." 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

**  Don'I?  forget  that  message,  Douglas," 
said  Bella,  as  her  husband  started  off  to  the 
House  of  Commons  after  dinner. 

In  the  time  that  had  passed,  the  St.  John- 
Elliots  seemed  to  have  become  so  intimate 
with  me  that  I  regarded  them  more  in  the 
light  of  relations  than  of  mere  friends.  It 
might  have  been  expected  that  I  should  have 
gone  back  to  town  with  Mr.  St.  John-Elliot, 
but,  although  I  watched  carefully  for  the 
least  sign  that  it  was  time  for  me  to  take  my 
leave,  I  saw  none.  For  myself,  I  professed 
to  remain  passive.  I  should  not,  of  course, 
have  been  such  a  fool  as  not  to  act  on  the 
slightest  possible  hint,  but  at  the  same  time 
I  was  not  going  to  deprive  myself  of  an 
evening's  amusement  and  the  opportunity  of 


204  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

being  alone  with  Bella  by  any  unnecessary 
action  on  my  part.  I  thought  once  of  rising 
as  if  to  go,  and  of  giving  them  or  either  of 
them  the  opportunity  of  asking  me  to  stay, 
but  I  saw  the  risk  of  doing  that  in  time.  If 
Mr.  St.  John-EUiot  did  not  ask  me  to  stay, 
Bella  could  hardly  do  so  without  making  the 
request  stand  out  too  conspicuously,  and  I 
decided  to  wait  at  least  a  little  while  and  find 
out  what  she  intended.  I  waited,  however, 
in  vain  for  any  word  from  her,  and  so 
determined  to  continue  waiting,  and  even  to. 
feign  a  density  of  observation  unless  the 
request  were  put  very  plainly. 

We  wandered  for  an  hour  about  the  garden 
in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  and  discussed  the 
day*s  doings.  Little  romantic  as  I  was,  I 
felt  a  certain  dullness,  a  certain  emotional 
heaviness  when  I  thought  of  my  sister.  We 
had  always  been  the  closest  of  friends,  and 
though  I  did  not  intend  to  be  parted  from 
her  for  very  long,  yet  I  knew  that  I  had  lost 
something. 

Perhaps  also,  now  that  it  was  done,  I  did 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOH  205 

not  feel  quite  confident  that  I  had  done  well 
in  not  opposing  her  marriage  with  Abinger. 
No  doubt  my  opposition  would  not  have 
prevented  it,  but  I  was  aware  that  such 
objection  on  my  part  had  been  expected,  and 
that  Bella  had  taken  some  trouble  to  over- 
come my  scruples.  It  was  therefore  probable 
that  there  was  something  to  be  smoothed 
over  if  only  I  knew  what  it  was.  This  caused 
me  a  sense  of  uneasiness  which  I  could  not 
quite  shake  off. 

Bella  herself  seemed  also  a  little  low- 
spirited,  but  this  might  have  been  nothing 
more  than  the  reaction  from  the  excitement  of 
the  day. 

"  Horace,  you're  gloomy." 

"  So  are  you." 

"  Yes  ;  I  didn't  think  I  should  feel  losing — 
Winnie  so  much." 

There  was  a  slight  halt  before  saying  the 
word  "  Winnie.' 

"  I  feel  it  too,"  I  said  ;  "  but  I'll  try  and  be 
more  cheerful.  After  all,  if  they  are  happy,  I 
fail  to  see  why  we  should  be  depressed." 


2o6  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

**  No,"  Bella  said. 

"I  wonder,"  I  said  it  in  all  innocence  and 
for  no  purpose  except  to  talk,  "  how  they  are 
enjoying  themselves." 

Bella  looked  at  me  between  the  eyes  for  a 
moment  and  then,  with  a  little  laugh,  said, — 

"  Come  indoors,  it  is  getting  chilly." 

We  walked  towards  the  house  in  silence, 
and  I  saw  that  something  was  passing  in  her 
mind,  for  she  did  not  speak  any  more,  and 
her  eyes  looked  thoughtful.  It  gave  me  the 
opportunity  of  observing  in  silence  the  real 
beauty  of  the  woman,  and  I  saw  how  the 
marks  of  the  knowledge  of  a  few  years  and  of 
London  life  might,  as  in  this  case  they  did, 
add  to  the  fascination  of  a  pretty  face. 
Innocence  has  a  charm  for  older  men  because 
they  feel  that  they  are  competent  instructors, 
and  that  the  pleasure  of  teaching  is  in  their 
power.  The  younger  man  is  charmed  with 
the  idea  of  learning.  This  was  my  case  ;  I 
felt  that  Bella  knew  all  that  it  was  worth 
woman's  while  to  know,  and  was  able  to 
enchant  me  in  ways  unknown  to  a  girl. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  207 

We  went  to  Bella'  sitting-room.  It  was 
a  cosier  room  than  any  other  room  in  the 
house,  and  everything  about  it  was  soft  and 
pleasant.  Moreover  it  had  a  subtle  scent,  one 
of  those  scents  that  recall  memories  to  the 
end  of  one's  life,  which  brought  to  me  a  more 
perfect  realization  of  Bella's  actual  presence 
than  even  the  sight  or  the  voice  of  her.  It 
was  the  same  scent  that  exhaled  from  her 
hair,  and  which  in  the  case  of  every  woman  is 
something  peculiarly  personal.  Many  amorous 
poets  have  sung  of  it,  and  every  lover,  be  he 
good  or  not,  knows  it.  And  being  a  short 
while  in  this  room  I  began  to  lose  any  strong 
sense  of  the  actuality  of  outside  things. 
Bella  and  Bella  alone  began  to  dominate 
my  reason,  and  I  was  ready  to  fall  into  any 
sort  of  folly  for  her. 

I  sat  here  in  wilfully  foolish  happiness  and 
talked  every  kind  of  nonsense  of  which  I  was 
capable.  She  did  not  resent  it,  and  only 
called  me  a  silly  boy.  She  allowed  me  to 
take    her    hand,    and    play    with    her    fingers. 


2o8  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

twisting  and  changing  the  rings  on  them  and  a 
hundred  other  stupidities. 

A  servant,  knocking  at  the  door  first, 
entered  with  a  note  which  a  boy  messenger 
had  brought.     Bella  read  it. 

"  Your  master  will  be  late  to-night.  Bring 
the  whisky  and  my  tea  in  here,  and  tell 
them  they  can  go  to  bed  at  the  usual  time. 
I  will  sit  up,"  she  said  ;  then  turning  suddenly 
to  me,  "  You  mustn't  go  till  you  have  had 
a  glass  of  whisky  and  soda  or  something  of 
that  sort." 

"  It  is  rather  late,"  I  said,  with  a  show 
of  hesitation,  "  but—" 

"  Never  mind.  To-day  is  a  special  occa- 
sion." 

The  things  were  brought. 

"  I  shall  not  want  anything  else,"  Bella 
said. 

When  the  servant  had  gone,  Bella  said 
nothing.  She  poured  out  my  whisky,  and  I 
in  return  poured  out  her  tea. 

"  I'm  going  to  treat  you  like  one  of  the 
family,  Horace." 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  209 

She  got  up  and  went  to  her  bedroom  and 
came  back  in  a  most  seductive  dressing-gown, 
and  I  could  see  by  the  suppleness  of  her 
figure  where  the  sash  was  tied  that  she 
had  made  herself  comfortable  by  taking  off 
her  corsets.  She  carried  in  her  hand  a  pair  of 
dainty  down-lined  slippers. 

"Take  off  my  shoes  for  me,  there's  a 
good  boy,"  she  said,  tossing  me  the  slippers. 

I  needed  no  second  request. 

When  that  was  done  she  leaned  back 
easily  on  the  sofa,  and  taking  her  tea,  with 
an  alluring  look  in  her  eyes,  tossed  me  the 
note  she  had  received. 

I  opened  and  read  the  note. 

"  Division  not  expected  till  4  o'clock.  Shall 
sleep  in  town." 

When  I  looked  up  she  still  had  the  same 
inviting  smile. 

I  hardly  knew  what  to  make  of  it,  but 
throwing  all  prudence,  all  the  last  remnants 
of  my  moral  scruples  to  the  winds.  I  made 
up  my  mind  to  go  as  far  as  she  would  allow 
me. 


210  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"  You  may  kiss  me,  Horace." 

I  kissed  her  rapturously. 

"My  darling!"  I  said. 

She  looked  up  at  me. 

"  Do  you  mean  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Bella." 

"  So  do  I,"  she  whispered  as  she  put  her 
arms  round  my  neck. 

She  was  quiet  for  a  while,  and  presently 
I  saw  a  troubled  look  come  over  her  race.  I 
feared  a  bit  of  repentance — which  proved  that 
I  did  not  know  Bella  yet. 

I  asked  her  what  was  the  matter.  I  should 
be  sorry  to  have  to  write  the  exact  words  I 
used.  I  am  afraid  they  were  couched  in 
that  style  which  makes  us  blush  for  lovers' 
folly  when  read  out  in  the  chilling  atmosphere 
of  the  law  court,  when  elderly  men  and 
women  address  each  other  in  language  which 
fond  mothers  use  to  their  babies,  or  children 
to  puppies, — when  "  you  "  becomes  "  oo  "  or, 
more  often  "  it." 

And  Bella  answered  me  in  the  same  man- 
ner. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  211 

Nothing  shall  induce  me  to  set  it  down 
truthfully,  and  the  following  conversation  is 
not  phonetic,  but  merely  conveys  the  sense  of 
what  we  said. 

"  I  want  some  money,  Horace." 

I  was  startled.  The  request  was  entirely 
unexpected.  I  imagined  the  St.  John-Elliots 
to  be  well  off.  They  had  the  reputation  of 
being  so,  and  I  had  never  seen  anything  to 
suggest  any  doubt  of  it.  "  Some  money  "  was 
a  vague  phrase,  but  I  guessed  that  some 
meant  what  I  should  call  much.  It  was 
impossible  to  think  that  Bella  could  be  in 
want  of  ten  or  twenty  pounds.  And  then  it 
came  upon  me  with  a  sense  of  miserable 
discomfort  that  I  had  very  little  money  left 
from  my  allowance,  seven  or  eight  hundred 
pounds  at  most  upon  which  I  had  to  exist 
for  some  six  months. 

"  Do  you  ?  "  I  asked  foolishly  enough. 

"  Yes  ;  I  must  get  some  somewhere,  and  I 
preferred  to  ask  you." 

I  accepted  the  compliment  with  real  vanity. 

"  Willingly,"    I   said,   "  if   I    can   manage   it. 


212  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

But  I  have  been  spending  rather  too  much 
lately,  and — " 

"  If  that's  the  case,"  she  answered  rather 
more  coldly,  "  pray  don't  trouble  any  more 
about  it.  I  only  thought  that  you  would 
rather  I  should  ask  you  than — someone  else." 

The  sting  took  effect.  My  jealousy  was 
pricked. 

"  Of  course,  Bella.  Please  don't  misunder- 
stand me.  Anything  I  have  is  yours.  I  only 
wish  I  were  twenty-one  !  How  much  do 
you  want  ?  " 

"  A  thousand  will  do." 

It  nearly  took  my  breath  away.  Something 
in  my  look  must  have  betrayed  me. 

"  Is  that  too  much — for  me  ?  "  she  said. 

This  woman  knew  how  to  wound  with  every 
Jword. 

"  No  ;  but  I  haven't  got  as  much  at  present. 
iWhat  can  I  do  ?  " 

She  bit  her  lip  in  silence. 

"  Won't  your  trustees  let  you  have  more  ? " 
she  asked  at  length. 

I  told  her  my  reasons  for  not  wishing  to 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  213 

ask  them.  Any  sign  of  undue  extravagance 
would  give  them  a  reason  for  deferring  my 
majority. 

"  I  see,"  she  said.  "  You  must  manage  it 
some  other  way." 

I  was  to  manage  !  The  admirable  effron- 
tery with  which  she  assumed  this  condition 
took  away  from  me  all  power  to  resist.  I 
wondered  what  her  husband  would  say  if  he 
knew  it.     She  seemed  to  read  my  thoughts. 

"  Douglas  is  so  much  absorbed  in  his 
wretched  politics,"  she  said,  "  that  he  can't 
pay  attention  to  me.  He  doesn't  give  me 
enough,  and  if  I  asked  for  more,  the  poor 
man  would  have  a  fit.  He  doesn't  understand 
what  it  means  to  keep  up  with  one's  set. 
We're  not  really  well  off,  you  know,  and — 
well,  things  have  got  rather  tight.  Anyhow, 
I  must  have  the  money,  somehow." 

I  did  not  see  what  I  could  do.  I  told  her 
my  exact  position. 

"  Then  you  will  want  some  money  too 
before  long  You  will  have  to  borrow  some. 
That's  easy  enough." 


214  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"  I  daresay,"  I  said,  "  but,  unfortunately, 
I  don't  know  anyone." 

She  lifted  her  eyebrows  a  little. 

"  If  you  intend  doing  it,  I  can  help  you. 
You  have  met  Reggy  Vane  ?  " 

"  I  met  him  here  first,  and  he  is  a  member 
of  my  club." 

"  Ask  him.' 

"  What  !  "  I  said.  "  He  hasn't  got  money 
to  lend,  I  know." 

Bella  laughed  aloud. 

"  Of  course  not,  you  silly.  I  didn't  mean 
that.  Tell  him  what  you  want.  You  needn't 
mind.  He  won't  say  anything  to  anyone. 
Have  you  ever  heard  him  mention  such  a 
thing  ?  " 

"  Never." 

"  And  yet,"  she  continued,  "  I  suppose  he 
finances  half  the  men  in  your  club.  Ask  him 
to-morrow,  will  you  ?  I  want  it  soon.  You 
had  better  get  enough  for  yourself,  too,  you 
know." 

"  I'll  ask  him  to-morrow." 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  215 

"  Dear  boy,"  and  she  gave  me  the  sweetest 
kiss  in  the  world. 

"  I  must  go  now  ? "  I  said,  more  in  query 
than  in  affirmation. 

"  Not  yet,  not  till  I  have  told  you  some- 
thing," Bella  said. 

"  What  ?  "  I  asked. 

She  looked  at  me  out  of  swimming  eyes  that 
made  my  senses  stupid. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

My  man  had  to  call  me  three  times  before  I 
could  wake  myself  up  next  morning,  and  it 
was  half-past  ten  before  I  was  sitting  down  to 
breakfast.  A  walk  from  Barnes  to  Piccadilly 
in  the  early  July  sunlight  is  exhilarating  at 
the  time,  and  I  never  felt  more  fresh  and 
lively  than  when  I  arrived  at  my  chambers. 
Any  idea  of  sleep  seemed  far  away,  and  I  do 
not  think  I  should  have  got  into  bed  at  all, 
but  that  I  could  not  think  of  anything  else  to 
do  at  that  hour.  I  knew  that  I  could  not 
sleep,  and  took  a  French  novel  to  read.  1 
remembered  no  more  until  I  became  dimly 
aware  of  a  knocking  at  my  door,  and  soon 
after  of  someone  moving  about  the  room.  I 
had  some  dim  fancy  that  somebody  ought  to 
get    up,    but    it    didn't    seem    to    concern    me 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  217 

particularly.  Twice  again  this  happened,  and 
it  was  the  words,  "ten  o'clock,  sir,"  that 
brought  me  to  a  realization  of  the  things  of 
this  life.  I  remembered  that  I  had  to  find 
Sir  Reginald  Vane  this  morning,  and  that  he 
was  generally  to  be  caught  about  eleven 
o'clock  at  the  Junior  Turf.  After  that  time  it 
was  doubtful  where  he  might  be,  and  not  a 
living  soul,  except  himself,  could  have  said 
for  certain. 

I  therefore  hurried  over  my  breakfast,  and 
went  down  to  the  club.  I  discovered  Vane 
in  the  reading  room,  looking  through  the 
Sportsman.  I  was  glad  of  this,  as  it  gave 
me  the  opportunity  of  getting  into  conversa- 
tion with  him  easily.  I  cannot  deny  that 
I  felt  nervous  at  approaching  him  on  the 
subject  of  the  loan,  and  nothing  but  Bella's 
assurance  that  he  would  take  it  as  a  matter 
of  course  would  have  induced  me  to  do  so. 
He  looked  so  well-groomed,  so  well-to-do, 
so  self-contained  as  he  sat  there,  that  I 
wondered  what  interest  he  could  possibly 
take  in  another  man's  money  troubles.  He 
had  always  been  very  friendly  to  me,  but  we 


2i8  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

were  not  friends.  The  more  I  thought  of 
the  matter,  the  more  I  found  out  that  we 
were  the  merest  acquaintances,  and  my  first 
diffidence  was  augmented  enormously  when 
I  pictured  the  possibihty  of  getting  prettily 
snubbed  for  my  presumption.  Reggy  Vane, 
I  knew,  was  very  well  connected,  being  the 
cousin  of  a  duke  through  his  mother,  who 
had  done  no  better  than  marry  a  baronet, 
and  a  poor  one  at  that.  But  if,  as  a  fact,  he 
was  not  well  off  in  the  matter  of  income,  it 
was  the  more  likely  that  he  made  up  for  it 
in  pride,  and,  considering  these  things,  I 
found  the  greatest  difficulty  in  making  a 
beginning. 

Going  towards  the  window  where  he  was 
sitting,  I  nodded,  and  asked  some  casual 
question  about  the  day's  racing.  He  replied, 
and  we  entered  into  a  discussion  of  our 
respective  fancies,  in  which  I  had  the  good 
sense  to  defer  my  unripe  opinion  in  favour 
of  his  mature  experience.  This  seemed  to 
please  him  in  a  mild  way,  and  I  felt  that  we 
were  at  a  better  understanding  than    we  had 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  219 

hitherto  reached  in  our  social  contact. 
Nevertheless,  I  seemed  to  be  as  far  as  ever 
from  the  object  with  which  I  had  sought  his 
companionship. 

*'  Would  you  care  to  go  in  for  a  little 
flutter  ?  "  he  said,  at  length.  "  I  know  of  a 
very  warm  thing,  if  you  do." 

I  answered  that  I  had  not  intended  doing 
anything  to-day,  not  having  been  able  to  pay 
much  attention  to  racing  matters  for  the  past 
few  weeks. 

"  It's  of  no  consequence,"  he  said,  with 
extreme  politeness.  "  If  you  had  cared  about 
it,  I  might  have  been  able  to  put  you  on  to  a 
good  thing,  that's  all." 

Of  course  I  would  not  resist  the  temptation 
of  knowing  what  it  was. 

"All  right,"  I  answered,  "  Fll  have  a  try. 
Are  you  doing  anything  yourself  ?  " 

"  No," — he  looked  at  me  very  straightly — 
"  I  can't  afford  it  at  present.  But  if  you 
like  it,  and  care  to  risk  an  extra  fiver — for 
me  ?  " — he  paused  as  if  to  watch  the  effect. 

"  WiUingly,"  I  said. 


220  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

^^Fil  d'or  for  the  forty-second  Biennial.  I 
don't  say  it  will  win  this  time  for  certain. 
It  depends  whether  the  stable  get  on  at  their 
own  price,  but  I  have  heard  that  the  com- 
mission has  been  worked  very  quietly.  Keep 
it  to  yourself,  please,  if  you  will — don't  forget 
me. 

I  thought  that  I  saw  a  chance  of  working  in 
my  request. 

"  Thanks,  awfully,  I'll  wire  it  at  once.  I'm 
afraid  I  shall  not  be  able  to  risk  more  than 
twenty  for  myself — " 

Reggy  Vane  raised  his  eyebrows  as  if  in 
mild  surprise. 

"  It's  a  pity,"  he  said. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  it  is,  but,  to  tell  the  truth, 
I  am  very  short  just  at  present,  and  I  shall 
be  in  a  tight  place  soon — unless  I  can  raise  a 
bit  somewhere." 

He  never  moved  a  muscle,  and  I  was  almost 
afraid  to  go  on. 

"  My  case  too,"  he  said. 

This  was  a  damper.  If  it  was  his  case,  I 
failed    to    see    how,    as    he    could    not    assist 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  221 

himself,  he  could  assist  me.  However,  the 
thought  of  Bella  spurred  me  on,  and  the  ice 
was  so  far  broken  that  no  snub  could  amount 
to  much.  Indeed,  after  what  had  occurred,  he 
was  bound  to  be  polite. 

"  I  suppose,"  I  said  hesitatingly,  "you  don't 
know  anywhere  where  I  could  get  some  stufi 
for  a  few  months.  You  know,"  I  continued 
rapidly,  "  I  come  of  age  in  January,  and, 
meanwhile,  I  have  rather  outrun  the  con- 
stable." 

"  How  much  do  yout  want  ? "  he  asked, 
without  manifesting  the  very  least  surprise. 

"  I  thought  about  a  couple  of  thou." 

"  Better  make  it  five." 

"  My  dear  Vane,"  I  said  with  a  laugh,  for 
I  was  afraid  he  was  fooling  me.  "  I  don't 
suppose  anyone  will  be  such  a  fool  as  to  lend 
line  five.  Are  you  serious,  or  joking  at  my 
expense  ?  " 

"  I  don't  play  jokes  of  that  sort,"  he  answered 
with  a  slight  chilliness,  "  it  wouldn't  be  good 
form,  would  it  ?  " 

"  But — "  I    explained,    not    knowing    what 


222  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

further  to  say  without  floundering  into  some 
tactless  speech. 

Vane  cut  me  short. 

"  Look  here,  Manners,  we'll  make  it  a  matter 
of  business,  if  you  like.  If  I  get  you  five,  can 
you  spare  me  two-fifty  out  of  it  ?  If  it  makes 
you  more  as  ease,  we'll  call  it  commission  at 
five  per  cent." 

Bella  knew  what  she  was  talking  about. 

"  Gladly,  my  dear  fellow.  It  would  certainly 
make  me  more  comfortable  if  we  regard  this 
as  business."  And  certainly  I  felt  that  it 
would.  If  ever,  at  some  other  time — but  I 
dismissed  the  idea.  If  I  was  going  to  plunge 
on  this  occasion,  it  would  be  my  last,  and  I 
promised  myself  to  be  strictly  economical  for 
the  future. 

Vane  looked  at  his  watch. 

"  Are  you  doing  anything  for  an  hour  ?"  he 
asked. 

I  was  not. 

"  I  shall  find  you  here,  then  ?    Very  good." 

He  went  towards  the  door.      "  By  the  way," 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  223 

he  added,  coming  back,  "  don't  forget   Fil  d'or 
and — make  my  lot  a  pony,  will  you  ?  '' 

I  nodded.  Vane  left.  I  wired  to  my 
"  bookie  "  to  put  me  on  Fil  d'or  for  a  hundred. 
Then  I  tried  to  read  the  papers,  with  poor 
success,  constantly  catching  my  thoughts 
wandering  to  other  things,  to  Bella  first  of  all, 
and  next  to  Nelly,  from  whom  I  had  a  letter 
in  my  pocket  making  a  proposal  which  had 
troubled  me  a  few  hours  before,  but  which  now 
I  began  to  consider  in  another  light.  She 
wanted  to  take  out  a  provincial  company  oil 
her  own,  and  asked  me  to  back  her  to  the 
extent  of  a  couple  of  thousand  pounds.  I 
should  be  certain,  she  said,  to  get  my  money 
back,  with  interest,  as  she  was  sure  of  making 
a  big  success.  I  now  began  to  consider 
seriously  whether  I  could  manage  it.  Nelly 
had  never  given  me  any  actual  cause  for 
jealousy,  but  I  did  not  feel  quite  so  certain 
as  to  what  she  might  do  in  case  I  was  obliged 
to  refuse.  She  was  an  undoubted  success  in 
London,  and  had  many  admirers:  and  I  knew 
that  it  would  not  be  difficult  for  her  to  get  the 


224  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

money  from  someone  else  if  I  could  not  let 
her  have  it.  I  believed  that  she  wished  to 
be  faithful  to  me,  but  at  the  same  time  I  feared 
that  in  a  contest  between  ambition  and  her 
honour — not  to  say  her  love — the  former  would 
have  the  victory. 

While  I  was  meditating  these  things,  Vane 
returned. 

"  Have  you  done  that  ?  "  he  asked  calmly. 

"  Yes.     Have  you  ?  " 

He  handed  me  a  card. 

"  If  you  will  call  there  at  eleven  to-morrow 
morning,  I  think  it  will  be  all  right." 

The  card  read: — 


MR.  JAMES  SALMON, 

Jermyn  Street. 

Office  Hours,  lo — ^4, 


I  lunched  at  the  club,  and  later  in  the 
afternoon  drove  over  to  see  Nelly  at  her  house 
in  St.  John's  Wood.  I  found  her  lying  in 
a  hammock  in  the  garden,  and  a  loud-looking 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  225 

man  of  about  forty  sitting  in  a  garden  chair 
near  her.  She  greeted  me  enthusiastically, 
and  soon  the  man  took  his  leave. 

"  My  proposed  business  manager,"  Nelly 
said  by  way  of  explanation.  I  had  asked  no 
question,  but  clearly  Nelly  considered  some 
excuse  necessary. 

"  Look  here,  dear  old  boy,'*  she  said,  "  I'm 
bent  on  this  idea,  and  I  knew  you  wouldn't 
like  me  to  ask  anybody  else  but  you  first." 

There  was  a  touch  in  the  word  "  first "  that 
went  home. 

"  Of  course  not,"  I  replied. 

"Well,  what  I  want,"  Nelly  went  on,  "is 
two  thousand  down  for  working  expenses,  and 
a  guarantee  of  five  thousand.  The  guarantee 
will  only  be  nominal,  but  I  can't  get  good 
people  to  support  me  unless  they  know  there 
is  enough  money  behind  the  show.  We  shall 
make  a  thundering  big  success  for  certain,  and 
you  shall  have  a  quarter  share  of  the  profits. 
I  want  half,  and  my  manager  will  want 
another  quarter,  so  you  see  we  can't  give  you 


226  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOE 

"You'll  do  it,  I  know,"  and  she  gave  me  a 
full  kiss. 

"  I'll  tell  you  to-morrow,  I  suppose  that  will 
do?" 

"  Hang  it  all,  old  man  ! "  she  exclaimed  in 
disappointment.  "  You  can't  expect  to  keep 
me  hanging  about  like  that.  You  must  know 
whether  you  will  or  not." 

"My  dear  Nell,  I've  got  to  find  the  two 
thousand.  It  isn't  so  easy  as  you  imagine  to 
pay  down  two  thousand  ready.^' 

"  Oh,  bosh  !  I  know  lots  of  fellows  who 
would  be  only  too  deHghted  to  be  allowed  to 
do  it.     It's  a  bit  mean  of  you,  old  man." 

I  was  getting  somewhat  annoyed  at  her  tone. 

"  I  think  you  had  better  give  them  the 
opportunity,  then,"  I  replied,  with  what  was 
intended  to  be  blighting  sarcasm. 

"  Don't  fluster  yourself,  or  I  may  take  you 
at  your  word.  If  you  imagine  I'm  going  to 
stand  any  nonsense  of  that  sort,  you're  very 
much  mistaken." 

I  knew  that  Nelly  was  getting  the  best 
of     it.       An     absurd     jealousy     seized     me. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  -127 

Her  threat  was  doubtless  too  easy  to 
carry  out,  and  my  pride  exacted  a  faithfulness 
from  her  that  I  was  far  from  maintaining 
myself.  But  on  that  point  I  consoled  myself 
with  the  thought  that  the  same  standard  of 
morals  could  not  be  applied  to  men  and 
women.  I  was  not  willing  to  lose  Nelly.  I 
was  really,  as  already  explained,  very  fond  of 
her,  and  the  idea  of  her  belonging  to  anyone 
else  filled  me  with  the  very  greatest  abhorrence. 
Yet  I  realized  that  I  could  only  retain  her 
by  allowing  her  to  have  her  own  way  in  this 
matter. 

"  For  goodness  sake,  don't  let  us  quarrel, 
Nell,"  I  answered.  "  You  have  misunderstood 
me.  I  merely  meant  that  I  could  not  find  the 
ready  cash  before  to-morrow.  Of  course,  I 
agree  to  do  it — for  you — " 

The  "for  you"  was  intended  to  be  very 
effective.  It  failed  completely.  Nell  took  no 
notice  of  it,  but  merely  said, — ■ 

"  Why  the  devil  couldn't  you  say  so  at 
once,  instead  of  Jooling  about  in  that  manner  ? 
That's  ^U  right,  then,    Ypu'U  have  some  tea  ?  " 


^2$  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

The  servant  was  at  that  moment  bringing 
the  table  out  into  the  garden. 

I  went  back  to  the  club  to  dine.  On  the 
way  I  bought  an  evening  paper.  Fzl  d' or  had 
won  his  race,  starting  at  the  nice  little  price 
of  ten  to  one  in  a  field  of  only  four  runners. 
Evidently  Vane's  racing  information  was  of 
the  innermost.  I  had  bagged  a  thousand, 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  for  myself,  and  two- 
fifty  for  Vane.  He  was  evidently  a  valuable 
acquisition  and  cheap  at  the  price  I  was 
paying.     I  did  not  see  him  again  that  evening. 

Next  morning  at  eleven  o'clock  I  was  in 
Jermyn  Street.  I  soon  found  Mr,  James 
Salmon,  more  popularly  known  as  Jimmy 
Salmon,  in  his  office,  or,  shall  I  say  rather, 
chambers.  I  was  shown  by  an  aristocratic 
clerk  into  a  room  most  handsomely  furnished, 
something  between  an  office  and  a  study.  A 
magnificent  Persian  carpet;  great  easy  leather 
chairs  and  sofa  ;  a  splendid  writing  table  fitted 
with  every  convenience,  and  quite  one  of  the 
most  perfect  things  ever  produced  by  the 
Shannon    File    Company  ;    a   f;ne   gilt   clogk ; 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOU  229 

large  Japanese  enamel  vases  ;  everything 
expensive  and  luxurious.  And  yet  it  all  had 
such  a  look  of  austere  discomfort  that  I 
could  not  myself  have  lived  in  the  room  an 
hour.  There  was  only  one  small  book-shelf, 
and  the  most  auspicious  books  upon  it  were 
the  Post  Office  Directory,  Debrett's  Peerage, 
and  the  Civil  Service  Calendar.  There  was 
also,  in  one  corner,  a  massive  safe.  And 
nothing  else  whatever.  I  had  only  a  few 
minutes  in  which  to  observe  these  things  when 
from  an  adjoining  room  a  man  entered.  I 
recognized  him  at  once  for  Jimmy  Salmon.  A 
large,  ample-stomached  man  of  fifty  ;  hair, 
whiskers  and  moustache  turning  grey  ;  dark, 
deep-set  eyes  beneath  bushy  eyebrows  ;  thick 
gold  watch  chain  and  big  diamond  ring  on  the 
third  finger  ;  dark  clothes,  and  a  very  full- 
rigged  frock  coat.  There  was  something  in  the 
setting  of  his  eyes,  in  the  hang  of  his  nose,  in 
the  thickness  of  his  lower  lip,  which  made  me 
quite  certain  that  his  name  on  the  Register  of 
Births — I  was  nearly  writing  of  Baptisms — 
was   Jacob    Solomon.     "  James    Salmon "   was 


230 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 


one  of  those  euphemisms  by  which  Moses 
becomes  Morris,  David  Davis,  Barnabas 
Barnett,  and  Levi  Lewis. 

He  addressed  me  with  a  good-humoured 
famiharity,  a  bonhomie  which  would  have  been 
quite  prepossessing  if  it  had  not  been  rather 
overdone. 

"  DeHghted  to  make  your  acquaintance, 
Mr.  Manners,"  he  said,  holding  out  a  fat 
hand.     **  Have  a  cigar  ?  " 

From  the  cupboard  of  his  desk  he  brought 
out  a  fine  brand  of  Bock  y  Bock  and  offered 
me  the  box. 

"  I  don't  know  how  you  feel,"  he  continued, 
"but  I  could  just  do  with  a  little  pick-me-up, 
The  Goldsmiths'  Company  do  one  a  little 
too  well,  eh  ^.  "  "  He  rang  the  bell  and  his 
clerk  appeared.  "  Just  bring  two  glasses  and 
a  bottle  of  Koch  fils — you  like  it  dry  ?  Were 
you  at  Sandown  yesterday  ?  No  ?  I  was. 
Why  couldn't  someone  have  told  me  about 
Fil  d'orf  As  it  was  I  dropped  a  bit  over  that 
race,  about  five  hundred.  Did  pretty  well 
on  the  whole,  though," 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  231 

I  let  it  out  that  I  had  backed  the  horse 
named . 

"Indeed!  Ah,  you  know  something,  young 
gentleman!"  this  with  a  sly  wink.  "Next 
time  you  have  a  soft  thing  like  that  on,  don*t 
forget  Jimmy." 

I  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  mention  how 
I  got  the  tip. 

"  Well,  now,"  he  said,  when  we  had  finished 
the  bottle,  "  about  this  little  matter,  you 
want—" 

"  Five  thousand,"  I  said  as  calmly  as  I 
could. 

"  Five  thousand,  yes.  You're  under  age, 
I  believe,  a  little  ;  six  months,  I  think. 

He  seemed  to  know  all  about  me. 

"  I  fancy,"  he  continued,  "  if  I  remember 
your  father's  will  rightly,  that  your  guardians 
have  power  to  postpone  your  majority  if  they, 
see  fit." 

"  They  won't  do  that,"  I  interrupted. 

"  No,  h — m,  h — m  ;  of  course  they  won't. 
But  they  have  the  power,  that's  all.  It  merely 
makes  the  risk  a  little  greater — risk,  of  coursei 


232  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL' 

in  the  strictly  mercantile  sense.  You  see, 
Mr.  Manners,  I'm  bound  to  consider  things 
in  this  way.  Of  course  I  know  there's  no 
risk  really.  I'm  dealing  with  a  gentleman, 
and  I'd  rather  take  a  gentleman's  word  than 
a  banker's  draft." 

I  could  not  help  noticing  the  hyperbole. 

"  Suppose,  then,  we  say  a  bill  at  six 
months.  What  would  you  consider  a  fair 
amount  ?  " 

I  did  not  know.  I  said  that  he  was  the  best 
judge. 

"Ten  thousand  wouldn't  be  too  much,  I 
suppose  ?  " 

I  made  a  wry  expression  at  the  amount. 

"  My  dear  young  gentleman,"  he  said, 
"  you  must  not  forget  that  you  are  under 
age." 

"  You  don't  imagine  I  shall  repudiate  it  ? " 
I  said  rather  indignantly. 

"  Of  course  not,  of  course  not  ;  but  I  am 
bound  to  take  the  fact  under  consideration." 

These  facts  were  evidently  g,n  expensive 
luxury  in  my  case. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  233 

"  It's  only  six  months/'  I  said  ;  "I  should 
have  thought  that  six,  or  say  seven  thousand 
would  be  about  right." 

"  Couldn't  do  it  my  dear  young  sir,"  and 
he  closed  and  locked  one  of  his  table  drawers. 

I  thought  of  many  things — of  my  promises 
to  Bella,  to  Nelly,  and  to  Vane,  let  alone 
the  fact  that  sooner  or  later  I  should  be 
in  very  low  water  on  my  own  account.  I 
remembered  that,  at  the  worst,  there  was  a 
good  lump  of  income  that  had  accrued  in 
the  past  year,  in  excess  of  my  allowance, 
which  would  anyhow  come  to  me  whatever 
my  trustees  chose  to  do.  And  on  that  score 
I  had  no  fear,  when  I  remembered  how  very 
easy  they  had  been  in  the  matter  of  Winifred's 
marriage.  Beggars  cannot  be  choosers,  and 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  accept  the 
offer  made. 

^*  I'm  not  a  hard  man,"  Jimmy  said,  "  and 
when  the  time  for  payment  comes,  we'll  see. 
But  I  can't  afford  to  ruin  myself,  can  I  ?  " 

I  failed  to  see  how  he  was  ruining  himself, 
but  did  not  reply  to  his  question. 


234  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"  Very  well,"  I  said,  but  when  I  turn  up 
in  January  with  the  money,  I  shall  expect — " 

"  You'll  find  Jimmy  a  man  of  his  word, 
Mr.  Manners.     I  said  we'll  see." 

Ten  minutes  later  I  came  out  into  the 
sunlight  in  Jermyn  Street  with  Jimmy's 
cheque  for  five  thousand  in  my  pocket. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

This  was  not  the  last  visit  I  paid  to  Mr.  Jimmy 
Salmon.  Good  resolutions  with  a  fellow  of  my 
sort  always  lead  to  bad  results.  No  sooner 
had  I  made  the  resolve  referred  to  than  I 
hankered  to  break  it,  and,  as  I  seldom  denied 
myself  anything  that  I  wanted,  and  that  I 
could  obtain,  a  few  months  only  elapsed  before 
I  had  need  of  the  assistance  of  "Jimmy"  a 
second  time.  It  was  not  to  be  wondered  at. 
Out  of  the  five  thousand  which  I  had,  three 
thousand  went  at  once,  one  to  Bella,  and  two 
to  Nelly.  I  had  intended  to  live  economically 
on  the  remainder  until  the  end  of  the  year.  I 
meant  to  go  abroad  for  a  few  months,  and  on 
returning  to  go  down  to  Walcote  and  try  oncQ 
more  to  interest  myself  in  the  welfare  of  its 
tenants  and  to  lead  a  rural  life.     Of  course  all 


236  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

these  plans  went  to  the  wall.  What  I  actually 
did  was  very  different. 

In  the  first  place  I  found  Bella's  fascination 
to  be  stronger  than  I  had  thought.  I  imagined 
at  one  time  that  when  once  I  was  her  accepted 
lover  I  should  care  less  about  her,  and  that  the 
passion,  being  satisfied,  would  soon  die  away, 
I  was  mistaken.  Now  that  I  was  her  lover  I 
was  more  infatuated  with  her  than  ever.  I  was 
quite  preposterous,  and  chafed  so  much  when  I 
was  away  from  her  that  my  visits,  and  my  only 
too  obvious  attentions,  passed  the  limit  of  discre- 
tion with  even  so  blind  a  husband  as  she  had. 

She  had  to  warn  me  more  than  once,  and  at 
last  threatened  to  put  an  end  to  the  liason 
unless  I  was  more  careful. 

"  You  seem  to  forget,  Horace,  that  I  at  least 
have  a  character  to  lose,  and  a  position.  I  am 
very  fond  of  you  but  I  am  not  a  fool.  If  you 
can't  behave  decently  when  Douglas  and  other 
people  are  about,  I  shall  forbid  you  to  come 
here  at  all." 

I  was  very  humble  and  promised  to  behave 
better,  so  she  did  not  carry  out  her  threat. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  237 

But  it  was  just  this  forbidden  and  dangerous 
position  which  provoked  my  passion  for  her* 
Perhaps  she  knew  that.  Had  I  been  her 
husband  I  have  little  doubt  that  I  should  have 
tired  of  her  in  a  week,  and  bitterly  repented  my 
bargain. 

But  she  was  by  no  means  cold  to  me  when 
occasion  served  for  another  course  of  conduct, 
and  opportunity  came  very  shortly.  The  .-^ 
session  was  prolonged  unusually  late,  and  Bella) 
went  away  by  herself  to  North  Wales,  where 
her  husband  was  to  join  her  subsequently. 
At  the  same  time  I  found  it  convenient  to  go 
abroad,  but  when  I  started,  by  some  aberration 
of  intellect,  ordered  the  cab  to  drive  to  Euston 
instead  of  Charing  Cross.  The  St.  John- 
Elliots  had  taken  a  house  at  Colwyn  Bay,  and, 
strange  to  say,  I  found  myself  staying  at 
Llandudno.  It  was  a  curious  coincidence* 
Parliament  was  prorogued  at  the  end  of  August, 
and  about  that  time  I  went  to  stay  with  friends 
in  Scotland.  By  that  time  I  had  "  lent  "  Bella 
another  thousand. 

Returning  to  town  in  the  Autumn — on  my 


238  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOE 

way  to  Walcote — I  received  rather  a  shock. 
This  was  the  news  that  Nelly's  tour,  although 
an  artistic  success,  had  not  succeeded  finan- 
cially, and  I  was  called  upon  to  make  good  my 
surety  of  three  thousand.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to 
apply  again  to  Mr.  Salmon,  who  was  very 
obliging,  at  a  profit. 

These  events  set  me  seriously  thinking 
whether  I  could  not  make  a  little  money  in 
some  way. 

Wynne,  whose  mother  had  recently  died, 
leaving  him  a  few  thousands,  had  "  gone  into 
the  City."  It  was  the  only  chance,  he  said, 
nowadays  of  making  money.  I  suggested  that 
he  might  keep  his  eyes  open  for  me,  and  if  he 
saw  an  opportunity,  let  me  know,  as  I  would  ba 
willing  to  risk  a  speculation. 

Some  days  later  I  received  a  note  from  him. 

"  Can  you  manage  to  look  in  some  time 
to-day  or  to-morrow  ?  I  think  I  have  found 
something." 

I  had  nothing  particular  to  do,  so  I  went" 
3own  the  same  morning.     He  had  an  office  in^ 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  239 

a  great  block  of  buildings  off  Cornhill.  Just  as 
I  was  standing  in  the  entrance  reading  the 
hundred  odd  names  in  order  to  find  Wynne's 
floor  and  number,  a  woman  passed  me  on  her 
way  out.  I  recognized  her  instantly.  It  was 
Bianca  Tennant.  I  do  not  think  she  saw  me, 
at  least  she  gave  no  sign  of  having  done  so. 
For  a  moment  I  hesitated  whether  to  follow 
her  or  not,  but  before  I  made  up  my  mind 
she  had  disappeared  among  the  crowd  in  the 
street.  Then  I  cursed  my  slowness  in  seizing 
the  opportunity.  This  woman  had  always 
fascinated  me,  and  though  I  was  afraid  of 
her,  and  believed  that  I  had  made  an  enemy 
of  her,  yet  I  had  not  lost  my  interest,  and  I 
was  just  in  the  careless  mood  born  of  trouble- 
some circumstances  that  would  have  led  me  to 
take  any  risk  with  a  light  heart.  For  a 
moment  it  flashed  upon  me  that  she  might 
have  been  to  see  Wynne,  and  yet  I  put  the  idea 
away  as  a  mere  coincidence.  A  hundred 
business  men,  and  their  clerks,  inhabited  this 
rambling  honeycomb  of  offices,  and  Bianca 
might    have    had    transactions    of    some    sort 


240  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOi: 

with  any  of  them.      Nevertheless  I  determined 
to  tish  in  these  waters. 

After  some  trouble  and  several  inquiries  of 
men  whom  I  found  to  be  strangers  to  the  place 
equally  with  myself,  I  discovered  Wynne's 
office.     He  was  in. 

"  Fm  glad  you've  come,  Horace.  This  is  a 
little  business  which  we  must  get  into  at  once 
if  it  is  to  be  any  good." 

He  then  told  me.  A  company,  for  some 
purpose  or  other,  it  does  not  matter  what,  was 
just  being  floated.  Wynne  knew  one  of  the 
Directors,  who  had  told  him  in  confidence  that 
they  were  going  to  put  the  shares  up  to  three 
or  four  premium  directly  the  thing  was  on  the 
market.  It  was  a  mere  speculation  affair,  and 
it  was  probable  that  the  company,  as  a  trading 
concern,  would  never  pay  a  dividend.  But 
that  was  another  matter  altogether,  and  did 
not  concern  us. 

"  Now,  what  can  you  gamble  ? "  Wynne 
asked. 

"  I     intended     having     a     fling     with     a 
thousand." 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  241 

"  Two  and  six  on  application,  and  two  and 
six  on  allotment,"  he  replied,  "  then  we  can 
safely  apply  for  four  thousand.  Are  you 
game  ?  I  don't  think  there  is  much  real 
risk.  Even  if  they  can't  put  the  shares  as 
high  as  they  think,  we  can  always  get  out  at 
par." 

This  seemed  safe  enough,  and  I  consented. 
I  drew  two  cheques  for  five  hundred  each. 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  Bianca  Tennant 
since  ?  "  I  suddenly  asked. 

Wynne    turned    towards    me    quickly,    and 
there  was  a  slight  flush  on  his  face. 
"No.     Why?" 

"  I  saw  her  as  I  came  into  the  building. 
I  don't  think  she  noticed  me,"  I  answered. 

Wynne  laughed. 

"  She  might  have  come  to  see  me,"  he  said. 
"  Do  you  know,  Horace,  I  thought  at  one 
time  you  were  rather  sweet  in  that  direction. 
She  is  really  a  very  pleasant  person." 

Very  pleasant  person  !  It  was  impossible 
that  any  man  could  have  been  holding  recent 
communication     with     Bianca     Tennant     and 


242  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

could  speak  of  her  in  this  way.  She  was  a 
woman  that  one  must  either  love  or  hate.  I 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  flush  which 
I  marked  on  my  cousin's  face  was  due  to  the 
extreme  abruptness  of  my  question. 

I  saw  nothing  more  of  Wynne  for  some 
days.  He  told  me  in  a  letter  the  shares  had 
all  been  allotted.  I  looked  up  the  company 
from  day  to  day  in  the  financial  newspapers. 
The  first  market  quotation  for  the  shares  was 
four  shillings.  Then  there  was  a  very  un- 
pleasant article  and  some  letters  about  the 
company,  and  the  shares  went  to  one  shilling, 
and  then  to  sixpence.  On  that  day  Wynne 
called  upon  me  unexpectedly.  He  said  he 
was  awfully  sorry  about  it,  but  a  powerful  lot 
of  "  wreckers "  had  got  hold  of  it,  and  he 
advised  me  to  get  out  at  any  price,  before 
another  call  was  made.  So  I  gave  him 
selling  orders,  and  next  day  I  received  a 
cheque  from  him  for  one  hundred  pounds, 
representing  four  thousand  shares  at  sixpence 
a  share.  Within  a  month  the  shares  were 
quoted  at  three   pounds,   and   there   had   been 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  243 

no  call — the  first  dividend  of  the  company 
was  thirty  per  cent.  Wynne  afterwards 
told  me  that  he  had  bought  up  some  of  the 
shares  when  they  were  at  sixpence,  but  he 
did  not  like  to  tell  me  to  do  the  same,  as 
he  supposed  that  I  had  lost  all  faith  in  his 
advice,  the  first  speculation  having  turned 
out  so  disastrously.  I  had  a  feeling  that  I  had 
been  "  done "  somewhere,  but  I  could  not 
blame  Wynne  in  the  matter,  as  although  he 
had  oflFered  his  advice,  I  was  quite  at  liberty 
to  have  followed  it  or  not  as  I  pleased. 

In  the  autumn  Winifred  and  her  husband 
returned  to  town.  They  took  a  furnished 
house  in  Mayfair,  and  I  was  often  there. 
Winifred  seemed  fairly  happy.  As  time  passed, 
however,  more  and  more  often,  when  I 
dropped  in  in  the  evening,  I  found  her  alone, 
Abinger  having  gone  out  to  the  club  or 
somewhere.  I  said  nothing  at  first,  and 
Winifred  said  nothing  to  me.  But  one  day  I 
made  remark, — 

"  Is  he  out  very  often  like  this  ?  If  not,  I 
am  singularly  unlucky  in  meeting  him." 


244  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

Winifred  looked  away.  I  thought  I  de- 
tected the  rise  of  water  to  her  eyes. 

"  Dear  me,  no,"  she  answered,  in  a  forced, 
off-hand  manner,  ^'  but  you  don't  expect  us  to 
play  at  being  lovers  always  like  children,  do 
you  ?  " 

The  answer  was  not  at  all  convincing. 

"  Look  here,  Winnie,  does  he  treat  you 
properly  ?  " 

She  looked  at  me  in  a  half-defiant  manner. 

"  I  have  everything  I  want,"  she  said. 

"  And  rather  more,"  I  added. 

It  was  true.  I,  of  all  people,  was  not  an 
ascetic.  Yet,  even  to  my  extravagant  tastes, 
the  way  the  Abingers  lived  was  superfluous. 
I  could  only  suppose  that  my  esteemed 
brother-in-law  had  or  acquired  much  more 
money  than  anyone  supposed,  and  had 
recently  touched  his  fortune.  Whenever  I 
saw  him  at  the  club  or  at  race  meetings,  he 
was  gambling  and  betting  at  much  higher 
figures  than  usual,  and  he  never  seemed  to 
want  for  ready  money  for  any  extravagance. 
However,    as  Winifred  did  not  desire  to  tell 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  245 

me  anything,  I  left  the  subject  alone.  I 
could  not,  however,  get  rid  of  it  so  easily 
myself.  It  cropped  up  most  unexpectedly.  I 
was  in  the  billiard  room  of  the  Junior  Turf 
one  day,  and  the  conversation  of  several 
members  turned  upon  a  high  game  of  ecarte 
that  had  taken  place  the  night  before,  in 
which  Abinger  was  concerned.  Young  Fred 
Grove,  a  nice  little  fellow,  was  near  me,  and 
quite  unexpectedly  said  to  me  in  a  low 
tone, — 

"  I  suppose  your  sister  had  a  good  bit  of 
money  ?  " 

For  a  moment  I  felt  uncomfortable,  and 
half-inclined  to  resent  it  as  an  impertinence  ; 
but  I  did  not  suppose  he  intended  that  ;  so  I 
laughed,  and   said, — 

"  Oh,  pretty  fair." 

This  was  merely  an  example  of  what  was 
often  happening 

One  day  in  Piccadilly  I  met  Scovell.  I 
had  not  seen  him  for  some  time,  but  that 
was  not  surprising,  for  he  was  with  his 
regiment  at  Aldershot. 


246  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"  I  was  going  to  look  you  up  to  say  good- 
bye/' he  said. 

"  Good-bye  !     Why,  where  are  you  off  to  ?  '* 

"  I  have  exchanged  into  a  regiment  which 
is  in  India.  I  am  sick  of  this  country,  and 
want  to  get  away.  I  shall  like  England  a 
great  deal  better  when  I  am  out  of  it." 

"  What  a  queer  chap  you  are.  When  do 
you  go  ?  " 

"  I  sail  Saturday.  I  doubt  if  I  shall  be 
able  to  see  you  again.  Say  good-bye  to  your 
sister  for  me.  I'm  sorry  she  married  Abinger. 
Good-bye." 

I  stood  still  for  a  moment.  Of  course,  I 
knew  that  he  was  in  love  with  Winnie, 
and  I  was  awfully  sorry  that  she  had  not 
preferred  him.  But  there  was  something  in 
his  tone  which  betrayed  a  deeper  concern 
than  mere  personal  regret. 

"I'll  tell  her,"  I  said,  "but  I  think  she  is 
happy  enough." 

"  Is  she  ?  I  am  glad."  He  paused  as  if 
in  doubt  whether  to  say  more  ;  he  overcame 
his  scruples.     "  Look  after  her  well,   Horace. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  247 

I  have  reason  for  what  I  say.  Good-bye,  old 
fellow,  don't  forget.'* 

And  he  walked  away  with  a  quick  step. 

I  felt  extremely  uncomfortable  at  Scovell's 
words.  I  knew  he  was  no  fool,  and  that  he 
was  really  fond  of  Winifred,  and  I,  therefore, 
was  not  stupid  enough  not  to  see  that  his 
warning  deserved  serious  notice.  I  deter- 
mined to  visit  Winifred  more  regularly,  and 
to  keep  my  eyes  open.  I  was  not  sorry 
when  a  little  while  afterwards  I  heard  that 
she  had  invited  an  old  school  friend  to  stay 
with  her.  This  was  Helen  Forester,  who, 
like  Winifred,  was  an  orphan,  but,  unlike  her, 
had  been  left  very  poorly  off.  Winifred  had 
persuaded  her  husband  to  let  her  friend  stay 
with  her  as  companion  for  some  time,  and  he 
had  offered  no  serious  opposition. 

I  remembered  Helen  Forester  slightly  as  a 
little  girl  with  her  hair  down  her  back,  but 
my  school-boy  eyes  had  not  remarked  any- 
thing unusual  about  her.  She  was  a  girl, 
and  that  was  all.  I  was  surprised  when  I 
saw  her  again  now,  for  she  was  one  of  the 


248  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

most  beautiful  women  I  had  ever  seen, 
beautiful  in  its  best  sense.  Out-of-doors, 
among  a  crowd,  she  merely  looked  a  very 
pretty  girl,  but  it  was  one  of  those  faces  that 
grow  upon  one  with  study,  a  face  of  artistic 
beauty  that  does  not  depend  for  its  loveliness 
on  accessories.  It  was  a  face  capable  of 
infinite  change,  equally  charming  under  any 
condition,  seeming  to  suit  all  styles  and  all 
moods  :  trim  and  neat,  or  untidy  and 
degagee;  the  simplest  of  morning  gowns,  the 
most  elaborate  of  evening  toilettes  ;  a  Burne- 
Jones  Princess,  a  Van  Beers  Cocotte — no 
matter  how,  when,  or  where,  this  face  was 
always  beautiful. 

I  was  greatly  struck  by  her,  and  she 
gave  me  an  additional  reason  for  calling  on 
Winifred  more  frequently  than  before.  And 
curiously  enough,  after  such  a  visit  I  gener- 
ally went  back  to  my  chambers,  and  smoked 
and  read  or  mused  till  bed-time,  instead 
of  going  to  Bella's  or  Nelly's  or  to  the 
Club. 

So  time  passed,  and  the  eventful  day  was 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  249 

approaching  when  I  should  be  of  age  and  enter 
into  my  property. 

A  few  days  before  I  received  an  unexpected 
visit  from  one  of  my  trustees.  As  I  was 
having  breakfast  my  servant  announced  Mr. 
Brickwood  Hague  Temple,  and  the  old  lawyer 
walked  in. 

*'  Pray,  don't  get  up,  Mr.  Manners  ;  please 
go  on  with  your — breakfast,"  he  hesitated 
and  looked  at  the  clock.  It  was  eleven- 
twenty. 

"  I  think  I  overslept  myself  a  little,"  I  said, 
laughing . 

"  Up  late,  I  dare  say,"  said  the  old  gentle- 
man. 

"  Can  I  offer  you  anything  ? "  I  asked, 
not  wishing  to  pursue  this  line  of  conversa- 
tion. 

"  No,  no,  I  thank  you.  At  least,"  after  a 
pause,  "  I  might  have  half  a  cup  of  tea,  if  it 
is  hot." 

It  was  hot.     I  had  only  just  sat  down. 

"  I  suppose,"  I  said,  rushing  right  into  the 
matter  at  once,  "that  I  o^ye  this  visit  to  the 


250  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

final  arrangement  that  will  have  to  be  made 
about  the  property." 

"  Exactly  so  exactly.  You  remember  your 
father's  will.  Perfectly  ?  Then  you  will  know 
that  there  is  a  clause  empowering  the  trustees, 
Lord  Pennington  and  myself,  in  our  discretion 
to  put  back  your  maturity  for  a  year  or  more, 
until  even  you  have  attained  the  age  of  twenty- 
five  years." 

I  began  to  feel  uncomfortable. 

"  Not  needlessly  to  prolong  this  interview," 
he  continued  drily,  "  from  certain  information 
that  has  come  to  our  knowledge  we  do  not 
consider  that  you  have  shown  that  ability  to 
administer  this  property,  to  regulate  ex- 
penditure, to — in  fact  to  manage  your  own 
affairs  prudently  which  would  justify  us  in 
handing  over  this  fortune,  so  carefully 
husbanded  by  your  esteemed  father,  at  the 
present  time.  We  have,  therefore,  agreed  to 
keep  the  control  of  the  capital  and  to  provide 
for  the  proper  maintenance  of  Walcote  for 
another  two  years." 

My  face  dropped. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  251 

"  But—"  I  expostulated. 

"  It  is  useless  to  discuss  it,  Mr.  Manners  ; 
we  have  not  acted  precipitately.  I  can  assure 
you  it  has  given  us  considerable  anxiety. 
This  being  the  case,  it  will  serve  no  good 
purpose  to  argue  the  matter  further.  You 
must  bear  in  mind  that  there  are  other 
interests  beside  yours  in  this  property.  I  will 
not  detain  you  longer.     Good  morning." 

I  was  too  much  perturbed  by  this  news  to 
utter  another  word,  or  to  make  any  attempt 
to  stop  him. 

For  some  time  I  was  completely  dazed. 
Then  some  of  his  words  repeated  themselves 
again  and  again  in  my  mind — "  Other  interests 
beside  yours."  What  did  he  mean  ?  Suddenly 
a  light  dawned.  Wynne  !  Could  it  be  that 
my  cousin  had  been  carrying  tales  in  his  own 
interest  ?  I  found  it  impossible  to  believe  ; 
and  when  my  first  stupefaction  gave  way,  I  saw 
quite  plainly  that  I  had  no  one  but  myself  to 
blame  for  this.  I  was  neither  diplomatist 
nor  hypocrite,  and  it  was  easy  enough  for 
anyone  whom  it  might  concern,  to  find  out  all 


252  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

about  me.  I  had  gone  blindly  on  in  a  fool's 
paradise  with  the  usual  result. 

I  found  myself  now  in  a  very  awkward 
place.  I  was  no  longer  under  age,  and  my 
creditors  began  to  press.  True  that  I  had 
twelve  thousand  a  year  now,  instead  of  five, 
and  some  seven  thousand  in  hand  as  the 
surplus  over  my  allowance.  But  this  would 
not  go  far  if  I  attempted  to  pay  up  all  my 
creditors.  Jimmy  Salmon  alone  held  my 
notes  for  twenty  thousand,  but  if  I  could  settle 
matters  with  him,  I  could  pay  off  nearly  all 
my  other  creditors. 

This  is  what  I  did.  Jimmy  was  most 
obliging,  contrary  to  my  expectations.  I  gave 
him  fresh  notes  for  twenty-five  thousand,  and 
he  considerately  offered  to  let  me  have  any 
reasonable  sum  beside  that  I  might  require. 
However,  with  an  income  of  twelve  thousand 
I  thought  I  ought  to  do,  and  declined  his 
offer  for  the  present. 

I  was  so  delighted  at  this  result  that  I  was 
obliged  to  mention  it  to  Reggy  Vane  when  an 
opportunity  occurred. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  253 

Vane  looked  at  me  hard. 

"  Manners,"  he  said,  "  you're  a  bit  of  a  mug. 
If  you  don't  mind  me  saying  it.  Of  course  he 
was  obliging.  He  couldn't  have  recovered  a 
penny  on  the  other  money  because  you  were  a 
minor  when  he  lent  it  you.  Now  he  can.  By 
the  way,  whenever  and  if  ever  you  go  to  Jimmy 
again,  you  might  let  me  know,  will  you  ?  And 
the  amount  ?  Thanks  !  it  is  absolutely  con- 
fidential, but — it  might  do  me  good." 


42jaD»»rt*wt»»-» 


ir' 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

In  face  of  the  fact  that  Abinger  was  clearly 
becoming  neglectful  of  my  sister,  he  pressed 
his  attentions  on  me  more  than  ever.  He 
was  always  seeking  my  company  and  asking 
me  to  join  him  in  some  affair  which  as  a 
rule  involved  the  spending  of  money.  He 
appeared  to  be  an  exaravagant  man,  throwing 
away,  as  it  seemed,  money  on  all  sorts  of 
things,  and  betting  and  playing  for  high  stakes. 
Yet,  knowing  that  his  present  resources  were 
limited,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  this 
was  more  an  appearance  than  a  reality,  and 
that,  somehow  or  other,  he  got  it  back  in 
other  ways. 

I  was  anxious  to  learn  how  this  was  done. 
For  myself  I  found  that  in  keeping  pace 
with   him   I   got   through   my   income,   and   a 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  255 

bit  more,  with  great  ease,  and  yet  was  aware 
that  I  by  no  means  looked  to  cut  such  a 
showy  figure  as  my  brother-in-law. 

I  was  determined  to  learn  this  art  if  possible, 
and  I  supposed  that,  as  in  many  other  cases, 
experience  had  to  be  bought,  but  would  in 
the  end  prove  well  worth  the  outlay. 

It  was  in  this  way  that  I  became  an 
owner  of  race-horses,  or  rather  part  owner, 
Abinger  being  the  partner.  When  he  first 
mentioned  it  to  me  I  pooh-poohed  the  matter. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  I  said,  "  you  take  me 
for  a  mug.  However,  I  do  know  that  to  set 
up  a  racing  stable  would  cost  ten  to  twenty 
thousand  a  year,  and  one  must  wait  long 
before  getting  any  returns." 

He  laughed,  and  explained  to  me  the 
system.  We  were  to  pick  up  from  time  to 
time  a  few  lively  looking  "  platers"  as  cheaply 
as  possible,  nurse  them  carefully  for  a  win 
in  some  small  race  on  which,  by  a  well- 
worked  "  s.p."  job,  we  should  make  a  big 
lot,  and  sell  again  before  the  winter  at  a  profit. 

In  due  course  I  found  myself  therefore  the 


256  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

part  owner  of  some  four  or  five  animals  of 
poor  reputation,  and  did  moderately  well, 
which  is  to  say,  paid  expenses  nearly.  I  did 
not  do  so  well  as  Abinger,  however.  Twice 
I  absoluetly  refused  to  back  one  of  my, 
horses,  although  advised  by  my  partner  to 
do  so,  because  I  saw  no  earthly  chance  of 
winning  back  my  money.  On  both  occasions 
it  won  at  a  long  price,  and  I  saw  that  I  was 
a  bigger  fool  than  I  took  myself  for.  On 
another  occasion  Abinger  distinctly  advised 
me  not  to  back  one  that  was  running. 
He  said  we  would  only  pull  it  out  for  an 
airing.  I  did  not  put  a  single  penny  on  it. 
That  horse  was  registered  in  my  name  only. 
It  won.  Then  nasty  rumours  got  about  :  it 
appeared  that,  in  a  very  quiet  way,  it  had 
been  backed  heavily  at  "  s.p."  I  had  to  go 
before  the  stewards  of  the  Jockey  Club  and 
explain  things.  As  I  could  prove  that  not  a 
penny  came  to  me  through  this  win,  except 
some  very  small  stake,  I  got  off  with  a  friendly 
caution  to  keep  a  closer  watch  on  my  trainer^s 
doings.     It  was  quite  an  unpleasant  business. 


m. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  257 

Looking  back  at  this  time,  and  with  know- 
ledge gained  subsequently,  I  ought  to  have 
cut  myself  adrift  from  Abinger,  or  at  least 
have  had  my  suspicions  aroused.  But  he 
had  for  me  a  kind  of  fascination.  He  was 
such  a  jolly  companion,  and  explained  things 
so  easily  and  naturally  that  it  was  impossible 
not  to  be  convinced  of  his  bona  fides.  Once 
or  twice,  when  by  myself,  I  worked  myself 
into  quite  a  state  of  annoyance  with  hirq 
over  some  matter  or  other,  in  which  he 
appeared  to  be  acting  a  little  crookedly. 
But  when  I  went  to  tackle  him  on  the 
subject  all  my  distrust  and  anger  vanished, 
and  he  made  me  feel  that  I  had  been  most 
unjust  in  my  judgment  of  him. 

It  was  during  this  time  that  Winifred 
wrote  to  me  one  day  saying  she  wished 
particularly  to  see  me'  about  something.  I 
was  to  choose  a  time  when  Abinger  would 
not  be  at  home.  This  was  very  easy  to 
arrange.  I  dined  at  the  club,  and  when  after 
dinner  Abinger  turned  up  and  had  settled 
himself  down  in  the  card  room,    I  knew  that 


258  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

he  was  not  likely  to  go  home  till  after  2  a.m., 
when  the  club  closed.  Then  I  went  round 
to  see  Winifred. 

She  was  at  home  as  usual  with  Helen 
Forester,  who  was  now  her  constant  and 
only  companion.  Her  friendship  with  Bella 
had  latterly  declined.  I  was  not  at  all  sorry 
for  my  own  sake  that  this  was  so.  More 
than  once  I  felt  the  extreme  dififiiculty  of  the 
situation.  Difificulty  is  scarcely  the  word.  I 
had  not  yet  lost  all  sense  of  propriety,  although 
that  sense  was  much  dulled,  and  I  admitted 
in  my  heart  that  my  relationship  with  Bella 
made  the  latter  a  particularly  undesirable 
companion  for  my  sister.  It  was  altogether 
a  very  unpleasantly  complex  arrangement, 
and  its  contemplation  aroused  a  natural  but 
temporary  feeling  of  repugnance,  so  that 
more  than  once,  when  my  liver  was  out  of 
order,  I  resolved  to  break  off  with  Bella. 
But  I  was  young,  and  my  liver  soon  recovered 
itself,  and  I  laughed  at  myself  for  having 
given  way  to  the  suggestions  of  middle-class 
Puritanism.      After    all,    Bella    was    Bella,    and 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  259 

would  be  no  otherwise  because  I  was  not 
there.  If  not  I,  it  would  be  someone  else. 
Likewise  for  me,  if  it  were  not  Bella,  it  would 
be  another,  and  what  difference  would  that 
make  ?  I  was  not  prepared  to  become  a 
monk.  As  far  as  Winifred  was  concerned, 
she  was  my  sister,  and  I  knew  well  that  she 
was  not  likely  to  be  contaminated  by  Bella's 
influence.  The  idea  was  impossible.  The 
only  thing  required  was  to  avoid  a  contre- 
temps, and  all  would  be  right.  Nevertheless, 
I  was  not  sorry  to  see  the  friendship  with 
Bella  dying  out,  and  I  felt  the  presence  of 
Helen  Forester  to  be  a  great  gain.  There 
was  something  about  the  girl  which  made 
one  feel  safe  ;  a  sense  that  evil  must  hide 
itself  before  her.  I  myself  even  knew  myself 
to  be  for  the  time  a  better  man  when  I  sat 
in  the  same  room  with  her,  and  had  glimpses 
of  the  possibility  of  a  different  life  from  the 
one  which  I  was  leading. 

She  was  no  saint  in  a  niche,  no  waxen 
mater  dolorosa.  She  was  a  pretty,  graceful, 
clever  girl,  whose  experience  of  life  had  been 


26o  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

sufficient  to  dispel  her  girlish  ignorance  without 
touching  her  innocence.  It  was  just  that. 
She  was  one  of  those  rare  women  with  whom 
ignorance  and  innocence  are  not  synonymous. 
In  most  cases  ignorance  is  the  only  quality 
of  the  ingeyiue^  and  it  is  that  alone  which 
constitutes  her  chief  attraction  in  the  eyes 
of  the  old  or  middle-aged  profligate.  The 
prospect  of  the  joy  of  teaching  charms  them. 
The  girls  themselves  become — Bellas. 

With  Helen  Forester  it  was  very  dififerent. 
Her  beauty  and  her  wit  were  such  as  to  rouse 
passion,  but  of  the  purer  kind.  One  desired 
her  for  herself,  not  for  oneself,  which  marks  a 
strong  distinction. 

I  was  a^^are,  in  her  presence,  of  a  new  sensa- 
tion. I  say  new,  because  although  it  was  akin 
to  the  old  sensation,  which  I  had  so  often 
experienced  in  its  physical  manifestations,  it 
was  essentially  different  in  its  effect  on  action. 
It  subdued  rather  than  aroused  ;  it  called 
forth  a  calm  melancholy  rather  than  a  feverish 
excitement  ;  it  was  sufficient  in  itself  for  the 
occasion,  and  for  each  renewal*  and  did  ngt 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  261 

leave   that   sense   of   incompleteness   which   is 
characteristic  of  that  other  passion. 

I  forbear  to  speak  of  it  as  love,  for  that  is  an 
indefinite  word,  and  quite  equally  •  applies  to 
either  sort,  and  to  other  sorts  as  well. 

"  No,  don't  go  away,  Helen,"  Winifred  said, 
after  I  had  been  there  a  little  while,  during 
which  the  conversation  was  general.  "  I  don't 
mind  speaking  to  Horace  before  you.  In  fact, 
I'd  rather,  because  you  know  all  about  it,  and 
I'd  like  Horace  to  have  your  opinion  as  well." 

"  Very  wxU,  Winnie,  but  please  don't  think 
that  I  am  going  to  interfere  in  your  affairs, 
even  by  advice.  Advice  is  cheap,  and  like 
most  cheap  things,  pernicious.  More  harm 
has  been  done  by  good  advice  in  this  world 
than  by  falsehood." 

'*  Then  it  is  not  good  advice,"  I  suggested. 

"Indeed,  yes,"  Helen  repHed;  "it  is  im- 
possible to  be  otherwise.  Did  anyone  ever 
hear  of  advice  that  was  not  '  for  the  best '  ?  " 

"That's  hard  on  me.  I  have  been  asked  to 
come  here  by  Winifred  to  advise  her  on  some- 
thing, I  believe.    Well,  what  is  it,  Winnie  ?  ". 


262  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"Shortly,  this/'  Winifred  repUed:  "Stephen 
wants  me  to  lend  him  ten  thousand  pounds." 

"  Phew  !     Ten  thousand  !     It's  a  lot." 

**  Yes.  I  thought  you'd  say  that  But 
listen."  Then  Winifred  explained.  The 
details  were  of  small  importance.  It  was  all 
very  plausible.  It  was  a  question  of  using  the 
money  to  good  advantage  on  investments  that 
would  give  back  a  big  return.  Everything 
seemed  fairly  reasonable,  and  the  only  matter 
for  consideration  was  whether  Winifred  was 
justified  in  risking  her  private  fortune  in  this 
manner. 

"  What  do  you  say  ?  "  she  said  at  length. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  I  answered,  "  that  it  is  a, 
matter  rather  for  you  to  decide." 

"  I  know  that,"  she  said.  "  I  don't  want  to 
be  snappish,  Horace,  but  it  is  no  good  coming 
here  to  tell  me  that.  I  must  decide  it,  of 
course,  but  I  want  an  opinion  from  you." 

"  Well,  do  you  think  it  is  safe  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.     What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  either.     It  may  b^  all  right." 

"  Or  it  may  not," 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  263 

"Perhaps.  I  don't  like  it  very  much. 
Suppose  you  don't  give  it,  what  then  ?  " 

Winifred  looked  down  on  the  ground. 

"  Stephen  won't  like  it." 

"  What  does  that  mean  ?  " 

"  He  won't  like  it,  that's  all." 

Helen  Forester  had  said  nothing  all  this 
while.  At  this  moment  I  felt  her  raise  her 
eyes  on  me.     There  were  words  in  them. 

"  Will  he  be  unkind  ?  " 

Winifred  looked  up  sharply. 

"  No,  of  course  not.  Why  do  you  say 
that  ?  " 

"  From  your  manner.  That's  all  right, 
then.     Well,  I  should  say,  don't  lend  it." 

Winifred  frowned  a  little,  and  Helen  looked 
at  me  with  a  wistful  approval. 

"  I  was  afraid  you'd  say  that,"  Winifred  said. 
"  I  was  just  writing  to  the  bank  who  keep  my 
securities.  Fll  get  the  letter  and  tear  it 
up." 

Winifred  left  the  room.  I  looked  up  at 
Helen. 

*'  Yes,"  she  said,  "  he  will  be  unkind  to  her. 


264  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

He  will  ill-treat  her  if  she  does  not  consent.  I 
know." 

"  You  don't  say  that ! "  I  said,  getting  very 
angry. 

"  I'm  afraid  so.  That  is  why  I  stay  here. 
It  is  not  very  pleasant,  as  Captain  Abinger 
hates  me.  But  Winifred  needs  a  companion 
badly.  Why  don't  you  look  after  her 
more  ?  " 

"Miss  Forester,"  I  said,  crossing  over  to  her, 
"  I  ought,  I  know.  But  it  is  difficult  for  me,  as 
you  see,  perhaps." 

"Yes,  I  see.  I  know  it  is  difficult  to  inter- 
fere in  such  a  matter.  Impossible,  without 
enormous  tact." 

"  Yes.  I  wonder  if  I  might  ask  you  a 
favour  ?  "  I  said.     "  Will  you  help  me  ?  " 

She  looked  up  at  me  out  of  her  deep  eyes. 

"  Yes." 

Winifred  returned. 

"There  is  the  letter.  Tear  it  up  your- 
self." 

I  did  so. 

"And  yon  promise  i;ne  ftp-t  ypu  will  not 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  265 

write  another  like  it  ?  That  you  will  not  lend 
the  money  ?  " 

Winifred  bit  her  lip  and  looked  away. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  she  said,  somewhat  petulantly. 
"  Of  course  not. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Pleaskd  as  I  was  in  a  measure  that  Bella 
had  dropped  her  friendship  with  Winifred,  I 
was  not  quite  so  delighted  to  find  that 
Abinger  by  no  means  abandoned  his  amicable 
relations  with  the  St.  John-Elliots;  indeed, 
if  anything,  his  visits  to  their  house  became 
more  frequent.  This  was  by  no  means 
pleasant  to  me,  firstly,  because  it  compelled 
me  to  be  more  cautious  in  my  behaviour  in 
that  quarter,  and  secondly,  because  from  my 
subsequent  experience,  I  had  some  doubts 
as-  to  whether  all  had  been  quite  straight- 
forward between  Abinger  and  Bella  in  the 
past;  not  on  account  of  the  past's  sake, 
which  was  after  all  no  concern  of  mine,  but 
because  it  appeared  possible  that  the  rupture 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  267 

between  past  and  present  might  not  be  quite 
complete. 

I  could  not  accuse  myself  of  erring  on  the 
side  of  particularity  in  the  moral  conduct  of 
men  and  women,  and  had  it  concerned  any 
other  than  Abinger  and  any  other  than 
Bella,  I  should  not  have  troubled  one  moment 
about  the  matter.  It  is  astounding  how 
different  a  thing  looks  to  a  man  concerned 
and  a  man  unconcerned. 

Rather  to  my  surprise,  Bella's  rapacity  was 
quiescent  at  this  time.  I  had  come  to  regard 
her  extravagant  demands  upon  my  resources 
for  this  or  for  that  luxury  as  a  matter  of 
course,  and  had  taken  the  habit  of  setting  it 
down  as  part  of  my  ordinary  expenses.  But 
at  the  same  time  that  she  ceased  her  impor- 
tunities, she  also,  it  seemed  to  me,  withdrew 
a  portion  of  her  affection.  It  seemed  so:  I 
may  have  been  mistaken  in  this,  and  have 
entirely  invented  the  inference  of  cause  and 
effect.  It  may  well  have  been  an  imagination 
of  vanity.  As  long  as  Bella  was  dependent 
upon   me   to   satisfy   the   whims   which   a   wife 


268  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

cannot  convince  a  husband  are  essential  to 
a  happy  existence,  so  long  could  I  place 
dependence  upon  her.  When  she  appeared 
to  be  able  to  do  without  me  for  these  matters, 
I  not  unnaturally  imagined  that  she  might 
possibly  be  able  to  do  without  for  others. 
Yet  I  failed  to  mark  any  change  in  the  cold 
and  dusty  relationship  of  Bella  and  her 
husband. 

Acting  on  the  hint  given  me  by  Helen 
Forester,  I  paid  more  frequent  visits  to 
Winifred,  and  tried  to  discern  any  change 
in  her  manner  or  appearance.  Although 
more  subdued,  and  altogether  less  vivacious 
than  she  had  been  as  a  girl,  I  yet  was  unable 
to  detect  any  sufficient  alteration  to  give  me 
the  opportunity  of  interference.  The  matter 
which  had  been  the  subject  of  our  last  con- 
versation was  not  mentioned  again,  and  she, 
I  thought,  deliberately  avoided  anything 
which  might  lead  up  to  it.  So  far  I  sup- 
posed that  all  was  well.  One  day,  however, 
when    my    sister    had    left    the    room,    Helen 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  269 

Forester,   breaking  off  a   conversation  in  the 
middle,  said, — 

"  I  am  afraid  she  lent  that  money." 
"  Surely  not  !     Why  do  you  think  so  ?  " 
"  It  is   difficult  to  give  any   exact   reason," 
she    answered.     "  I    keep    my  eyes  open,  and 
I  have  come  to  that  conclusion.      I  think  he 
forced  her.*' 

"  What  can  we  do  ? "  I  asked,  in  trouble 
how  to  treat  an  affair  of  this  nature.  Such 
was  the  effect  produced  by  Helen's  character 
that  I  had  already  accepted  her  as  a  friend 
whose  interests  were  identical  with  ours. 

"  I  think  we  can  do  nothing — at  present," 
she  answered,  accepting  the  situation  with 
perfect  naturalness.  "  We  must  not  interfere 
between  husband  and  wife.  But  it  is  inevi- 
table that,  sooner  or  later,  this  state  of  affairs 
must  mend  or  end.  It  cannot  go  on  for 
long.  Either  her  husband  will  see  his  folly, 
if  folly  is  the  word,  or  she  will  see  hers.  Let 
things  go,  but  watch  them  closely." 

I  thought  Helen  was  the  most  sensible  girl  I 
had  ever  met. 


2^0  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

During  this  time  I  was  in  some  trouble 
about  Nelly.  I  was  as  fond  of  her  as  ever. 
Bohemia  is  a  long  way  from  Barnes,  and 
the  difference  of  climate  was  so  great  that 
the  one  seemed  always  a  distant  and  fabulous 
land  when  in  the  other. 

Has  anyone  whose  work  and  daily  life  lies 
in  London,  say,  taken  a  long  holiday  in  some 
foreign  town  ?  Whoever,  being  possessed  of 
some  imagination,  has  done  so,  must  have 
surely  at  some  moment  felt  that  what  he 
regarded  as  his  daily  life  was  but  a  dream,  a 
fiction,  of  which  he  had  read  in  some  book. 
And  again  on  returning  to  this  life  must, 
after  a  while,  have  wondered  if  that  foreign 
town  ever  had  any  real  existence  for  him. 

So  it  was  with  me  in  my  journey  ings 
between  Bella  and  Nelly.  I  seemed  to  live 
a  double  life,  and  each  at  the  moment  was 
the  only  real  life.  This  twin  existence  is  full 
of  fascination.  I  think  with  care  it  might 
even  be  trebled  or  quadrupled.  The  chief 
difficulty  is  in  preventing  the  two  from  run- 
ning  into   one   another.     When   that   happens, 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  271 

the     pleasure     is     gone,    and     it     becomes 
irksome. 

If  money  was  quiet  at  Barnes,  there  was 
a  brisk  demand  in  St.  John's  Wood.  I  did 
not  grudge  it  so  long  as  it  was  within  reason- 
able bounds.  But  just  now  there  was  talk 
of  taking  a  London  theatre.  I  had  gained 
some  experience  of  such  matters  over  that 
provincial  tour,  and  I  felt  by  no  means 
disposed  to  repeat  the  experiment.  I  said  so 
plainly. 

"  You're  getting  mean,  Horace,"  Nelly 
said,  with  a  nasty  ring  in  her  voice.  "  It's 
just  like  you  men.  You  always  want  some- 
thing for  nothing.  You're  getting  tired  of 
me,  that's  what  it  is." 

I  protested  that  it  was  not  so. 

"  You  needn't  flurry  yourself,"  she  said; 
"  I  can  get  on  quite  well  without  you,  so  don't 
flatter  yourself  I  can't.  I  managed  to  keep 
myself  before  I  knew  you,  and  I  can  do 
it  again,  I  suppose,  and  no  thanks  to  you — " 

Having  a  remarkably  even  temper,  and 
believing  in  the  maxim  that  it  is   useless  to 


272  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

contradict  and  argue  with  a  woman,  I  allowed 
all  this  combination  of  romance  and  ingrati- 
tude to  pass  without  question. 

"That's  a  little  unkind,  Nelly,"  was  all  I 
said. 

"  Unkind  !  Who's  unkind,  I  should  like 
to  know  ?  You  refuse  me  everything  I  ask. 
There  are  plenty  of  men  I  know  that  I  shouldn't 
have  to  ask  twice.  You  told  me  just  now  that 
you'd  had  enough  of  me,  and  I  suppose  you 
have;  someone  else  had  better  have  a  chance." 

Had  I  possessed  my  present  age  and  ex- 
perience, I  should  still  have  said  nothing. 
But  I  was  younger  then,  and  had  not  the 
sense  to  restrain  the  bitter  word  that  came  to  my 
tongue. 

"  Perhaps  they  had.  You  had  better  find 
one  of  your  plenty  who  will  make  himself  a 
fool  for  you.     I  won't." 

"  All  right,  old  man,  I  will.  I'll  take  you  at 
your  word,  and  pay  you  for  it.  I'm  going  to 
have  this  theatre,  so  I  tell  you.  " 

There  was  much  more  in  this  strain  which 
it  will  not  profit  to  set  down.     I  went  away 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  273 

in  a  bit  of  a  temper,  and  I  presumed  Nelly 
was  in  one  too.  But  as  I  knew  that  very 
soon  I  should  have  thrown  off  mine,  so  I 
supposed  that  in  a  short  time  she  would  have 
got  rid  of  hers,  and  I  waited  calmly  for  a  note 
from  her  which  would  show  that  she  had 
recovered  her  equilibrium.  I  never  doubted 
for  an  instant  that  Nelly  would  be  fool  enough 
to  throw  me  over.  No  letter  came,  however, 
and  though  I  tried  to  smother  my  disappoint- 
ment with  dignity,  in  time  that  failed,  and, 
unable  to  endure  the  suspense  any  longer,  I 
went  myself  to  seek  reconciliation.  This 
resolution  was  doubtless  hastened  by  an 
announcement  I  had  read  in  some  theatrical 
paper  that  the  beautiful  and  clever  Miss 
Elaine  Soyer  was  about  to  enter  upon  mana- 
gerial responsibilities  for  herself,  and  that 
a  West-end  theatre  had  already  been 
acquired. 

This  announcement  excited  both  my 
curiosity  and  my  vanity,  and — shall  I  add — 
my  passion.  I  was  still  fond  of  Nelly,  and  I 
had  so  long    possessed  the  reputation  among 


274  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

my  young  companions  of  being  the  practical 
possessor  of  one  of  the  prettiest  and  most 
popular  of  burlesque  actresses,  that  I  could 
not  bear  the  thought  of  the  loss  of  prestige 
which  would  result. 

I  therefore,  one  evening,  went  at  the  usual 
time  to  the  theatre  where  she  was  acting, 
prepared,  as  usual,  to  see  her  home  and  make 
and  seal  a  peace. 

When  she  came  out  of  the  stage  door,  I 
moved  towards  her.  She  bowed  to  me  stifly, 
and  accepting  the  arm  of  a  loud  and  ungentle- 
manly  Jewish  young  man,  entered  her 
brougham  and  drove  ofif.  I  was  so  much 
bewildered  that  I  could  do  nothing.  When 
my  mind  was  able  to  realize  what  had 
happened,  I  was  beside  myself  with  rage,  and 
I  should  be  sorry  to  repeat  the  language  that 
I  uttered  in  my  chambers  during  that  night. 
If  my  curses  could  have  taken  effect,  Nelly 
and  everything  about  her  would  have  withered 
away  at  once  and  for  ever. 

But  more  followed.  I  shortly  received  a 
letter  from  a  firm  of  solicitors,  who  said  that. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  275 

acting  under  the  instructions  of  their  client, 
Miss  Elaine  Soyer,  they  were  about  to  enter 
an  action  against  me  for  breach  of  promise 
of  marriage.  The  idea  was  preposterous,  as 
Nelly  knew  as  well  as  myself.  Our  relation- 
ship was  far  too  well  understood  between  us 
for  the  notion  of  marriage  to  have  possibly 
interfered  to  mar  its  tranquility.  The  sugges- 
tion was  almost  too  humorous  to  deserve 
serious  treatment.  Nevertheless,  I  sent  the 
name  of  my  solicitors  in  reply. 

In  due  course  I  went  to  see  them.  They 
asked  me  many  questions,  especially  as  to  the 
tenour  of  the  letters  that  I  had  written  to  Nelly. 
I  presume  that  my  elegant  epistles  were  not 
more  foolish  than  most  of  their  kind;  but  I 
had  had  the  misfortune  to  have  confidence  in 
Nelly's  good  faith.  When  my  good  lawyers 
learned  that  it  was  very  possible  that  I  might 
more  than  once  have  addressed  her  as  "  darling 
wifie,"  and  signed  myself  "  your  loving  hubby  " 
— we  two  knew  well  enough  what  these  terms 
signified — they   strongly   advised   me   to   settle 


2y(i  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

the    action    out    of    court.       It    cost    me    five 
thousand  pounds. 

Was  I  well  out  of  it  at  the  price  ?  It  might 
be  so;  but  that  was  not  the  only  price  I  paid. 
I  tried  to  satisfy  the  aching  sense  that  I  had 
lost  something  out  of  my  life  by  plunging  for 
a  time  into  every  kind  of  dissipation,  and  yet 
all  the  while  there  was  a  dull  pain  deep-seated 
in  my  heart  that  made  itself  felt  for  long, 
perhaps  for  ever.  The  mysterious  communion 
of  a  love  that  is  dead  manifests  itself  through 
the  physical  chain  which  will  never  be  broken 
till  the  body  perishes.  Somewhere  in  this 
lie  hidden  the  fundamental  principles  of  life. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

I  HAVK  not  related  the  ordinary  and  actual 
adventures  of  my  life  during  these  years.  I 
suppose  I  had  the  usual  haps  and  mishaps 
that  fall  to  most  men's  lot.  I  had  illness 
and  accidents  as  others,  and  as  my  life  was 
mainly  passed  in  London,  and  not  in  Arctic 
seas  nor  tropical  forests,  my  experiences  were 
not  more  interesting  in  the  matter  of  priva- 
tions and  hair-breadth  escapes  than  those  of 
any  other  Londoner. 

I  am  now,  however,  going  to  tell  one 
adventure  that  befell  me  about  this  time, 
because  I  think  it  had  a  definite  bearing 
upon  other  matters  here  related. 

I  had  bought  a  yacht,  at  the  suggestion  of 
Abinger.  He  wanted  me  to  go  in  for  a 
Britannia  or  Valkyrie.    I  had  the  good  sense, 


278  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

however,  for  once  to  resist  this  proposal,  and 
contented  myself  with  the  acquisition  of  a 
nice  little  "  40 "  cutter,  built  on  the  lines  of 
a  compromise  between  a  racer  and  a  cruiser; 
it  was  more  comfortable  than  an  ordinary 
racer,  and  faster  than  an  ordinary  cruiser. 
It  was  a  boat  on  which  one  could  have 
a  good  time  with  two  or  three  friends,  and  could 
have  a  chance  of  paying  some  of  its  expenses 
by  entering  for  cruisers'  races  during  the 
summer. 

I  had  always  been  a  moderately  good 
sportsman;  I  could  take  my  part  decently  in 
any  sport  or  game.  Sailing  was,  however, 
new  to  me,  and  during  this  summer  I  spent 
a  considerable  time  off  and  on  with  my  boat. 
It  was  my  amusement  to  invite  a  friend  or 
so  to  pass  a  few  days  with  me  coasting  about 
and  taking  an  occasional  run  across  Channel. 
It  was  an  excellent  thing  in  many  ways, 
especially  for  my  health. 

On  one  occasion  I  was  feeling  depressed 
and  worried.  It  was  just  after  my  rupture 
with  Nelly.      London  was  hot  and  stuffy,  and 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  279 

the  very  idea  of  a  few  days  at  sea  was 
comforting  and  refreshing.  I  had  not  found 
a  friend  to  share  my  pleasure,  and  I  was  on 
the  point  of  deciding  to  go  alone,  when  I 
accidentally  met  Wynne. 

It  was  some  time  since  I  had  seen  him. 
A  certain  coolness  had  sprung  up  after  that 
financial  transaction  that  I  have  related.  I 
was  near  the  Mansion  House  on  business  of 
some  sort  when  I  noticed  him  walking  in 
front  of  me.  I  had  time  to  observe  that  he 
was  worried  and  nervous,  and  his  appearance 
was  inclined  to  be  shabby.  I  came  hastily 
to  the  conclusion  that  business  had  not  been 
going  well  with  him  lately,  and  that  possibly 
a  few  days'  complete  change  would  do  him 
good. 

I  was  never  one  to  be  able  to  nurse  resent- 
ment for  any  length  of  time  against  a  man 
who  had  done  me  a  bad  turn,  and  when 
that  man  was  beset  by  ill-fortune,  I  was 
only  too  ready  to  forgive.  I  remembered 
that  Wynne  was  next  heir  to  the  tied-up 
property    which    I    enjoyed,    that    his    position 


28o  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

was  rather  a  hard  one,  and  that  I  should  be 
behaving  in  a  most  ungracious  manner  by 
treating  him  otherwise  than  with  every  kind 
consideration. 

I  overtook  him  quickly  and  touched  him 
on  the  shoulder.  As  he  turned  and  saw  me, 
he  started  and  became  rather  pale,  but  he 
soon  recovered  when  I  spoke  to  him  reassur- 
ingly. I  have  no  doubt  he  imagined  that  I 
was  going  to  bring  up  the  old  business  again, 
and  his  first  discomfiture  was  quite  natural. 

"  I  say,  old  chap,  why  haven't  you  been 
to  see  me  ?  "  I  cried. 

"  I've  been  very  busy,"  he  answered  after 
a  momentary  hesitation.  "  This  infernal 
Stock  Exchange  business  wears  one  to  death." 

"  Is  it  going  all  right  ?  " 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  No,  damned  bad.  I  can't  do  right  just 
at  present.  I've  been  doing  hardly  anything 
else  than  paying  diffs  for  the  past  two 
months,  and  if  it  goes  on  much  longer  it  will 
crack  me." 

"I'm    awfully    sorry,"    I    said.      "But    you 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  ^i 

must  not  worry  yourself.  That  won't  do  any 
good." 

"  Ah  !  it^s  all  very  well  for  you,  Horace,  to 
talk  about  not  worrying.  But  if  you  had  as 
little  capital  as  I  have,  and  had  to  watch  it 
running  away  like  a  leaking  beer  cask,  and 
unable  to  do  anything  to  stop  it,  you'd 
worry." 

"  I  daresay,  old  fellow.  Is  that  the  only 
trouble  ?  " 

He  looked  at  me  sharply  and  suspiciously. 

"  Why  ?  have  you  heard  anything  about 
me?" 

I  had  not.  My  remark  was  entirely  at 
random,  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  up,  or 
rather,  of  changing  the  topic  of  conversation. 
His  manner  struck  me  as  strange,  but  I  put 
it  down  to  nerves. 

"  No,"  I  said,  and  he  seemed  relieved.  "  I 
was  only  going  to  say  that  if  ever  you  get 
in  a  tight  place  and  I  could  help  you  to 
tide  over  it,  don't  be  such  a  jackass  as  to  be 
afraid  to  come  and  ask  me.  If  I  couldn't 
see  you  through  it,  I  should  be  a  pig." 


282  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

A  shadow  of  remorse  passed  over  his  face, 
and  he  said  in  a  low  voice, — 

"  Thanks,  Horace.     You're  a  good  sort." 

"  And  now,  look  here.  I  want  you  to  do 
something.  You  want  a  change."  And  then 
I  proposed  to  him  to  come  and  spend  two 
or  three  days  with  me  on  the  yacht.  He 
excused  himself  at  first.  He  could  not  spare 
the  time;  he  was  such  a  bad  sailor;  and 
many  other  reasons.  Then  suddenly,  quite 
suddenly,  he  accepted. 

"You're  right,  Horace,"  and  there  was 
some  sort  of  excitement  in  his  eyes ;  "  it  will 
do  me  good.     I've  let  myself  run  down." 

The  first  day  Wynne  was  rather  uncomfort- 
able by  reason  of  the  sea.  But  the  next  he 
had  quite  recovered,  and  took  a  great  interest 
in  the  boat  and  its  sailing.  We  had  run 
out  of  Queenboro'  and  were  making  for 
Yarmouth.  About  mid-day  we  were  in  the 
Middle  Swim,  running  before  a  smart  south- 
west breeze  in  a  fast  ebb.  We  were  thus 
dead  before  the  wind,  with  the  main-sail 
full  out    to  port,   and  the  back-stay  in  that 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  283 

hand  free.  Whoever  has  had  the  tiller  of  a 
handy  boat  under  these  circumstances  will 
know  that  it  requires  exceeding  care  to  avoid 
a  gibe.  A  little  too  much  helm,  the  boat 
becomes  unsteady,  and  the  boom  begins  to 
swing  ominously. 

I  had  been  at  the  tiller  for  some  time,  and 
Wynne  was  sitting  near  me  on  deck.  We 
had  been  talking  about  the  difficulty  of 
keeping  the  boat  steady. 

"  If  the  boom  were  to  come  across,"  I 
said,  "we  should  not  only  have  to  duck 
smartly  to  avoid  a  smack  on  the  head,  but  it 
would  carry  away  the  starboard  back-stay, 
and  might  even  snap  itself." 

"Yes!  I  see,"  he  said,  meditatively. 

After  a  while  he  said, 

"Would  you  mind  letting  me  take  her  for 
a  bit  ?  I  should  like  to  try  my  hand.  You 
stand  by  in  case  I  play  the  fool." 

He  seemed  so  well  to  have  understood 
what  was  required  that  I  saw  no  harm  in  it, 
and  allowed  him  to  take  the  tiller. 

We    veered    about    a    bit    at    first,    and    he 


284  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

laughingly  remarked  that  it  was  not  so  easy 
as  it  looked.  But  after  a  few  minutes  he 
seemed  to  have  caught  the  knack  of  keeping 
the  boat  fairly  steady,  and  I  allowed  my 
attention  to  wander  more  than  once,  feeling 
fairly  secure. 

"  What's  that  ?  "  cried  Wynne. 

I  looked.  It  was  a  fine  sight,  no  less  than 
a  big  ironclad  coming  up  channel  at  full 
steam,  and  as  she  passed  us  not  more  than  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  away,  I  felt  that  Ruskin 
was  woefully  lacking  in  appreciation  of  the 
artistic  possibilities  of  the  splendour  of  power 
when  he  spoke  contemptuously  of  the  modern 
battleship  in  comparison  with  the  old. 

The  room  was  in  semi-darkness,  and  a  grey- 
frocked  nurse  was  moving  noiselessly  about 
in  it,  when  I  woke  with  a  headache  and  a 
sense  of  general  weariness. 

I  was  not  allowed  to  talk  at  first.  I  didn't 
mind,  as  I  did  not  wish  to  talk.  For  several 
days  I  preferred  to  be  allowed  to  lie  still  and 
try   to    discover  things    on    the    white    ceiling. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  285 

After  a  while  Winifred  came  to  see  me,  and 
with  her,  Helen.  I  liked  that.  Somehow, 
Helen's  presence  seemed  to  do  me  good.  I 
was  much  more  comfortable  and  happy  when 
she  was  there,  when  I  could  see  her,  or 
hear  her  speaking  in  low  tones  to  Winifred. 

They  told  in  time  that  Wynne  had  let  the 
the  boat  gibe  while  looking  at  the  ironclad, 
that  he  had  called  out  to  me,  that  I  had 
ducked,  but  too  late,  that  the  boom  hit  me 
on  the  head,  and  knocked  me  overboard, 
that  I  was  sensible  enough  to  strike  out 
swimming,  and  kept  myself  afloat  in  this 
manner  for  some  five  minutes,  till  they  picked 
me  up,  and  that  I  only  fainted  off  when 
changing  my  wet  clothes  in  the  cabin.  I 
remember  none  of  these  facts,  and  never 
shall. 

Wynne,  I  heard,  was  quite  distracted  at 
what  had  happened.  He  had  called  every 
day  until  a  few  days  back,  when  he  had 
learnt  that  there  was  no  longer  any  danger, 
and  that  I  was  making  good  progress.  Since 
then  he  had  not  called. 


286  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

Helen  and  Winifred — I  mean,  Winifred 
and  Miss  Forester — came  every  day,  and  when 
I  was  well  enough  I  went  with  them  to  a 
country  farm  in  Devonshire.  Abinger  did 
not  come,  as  he  said  that  he  thought  he  must 
stay  about  London  to  look  after  my  horses  and 
things. 

One  day  in  the  autumn  I  heard  from 
Wynne.  He  asked  me  to  lend  him  a 
thousand.  Things  had  gone  from  bad  to 
worse.  He  had  been  obliged  to  cut  his 
losses  as  his  capital  was  gone,  and  he  was 
left  without  resources.  He  had  an  offer  of 
a  partnership  in  a  French  house,  which 
would  involve  his  being  mostly  abroad, 
but  a  thousand  pounds  was  required  to  put 
him  in. 

I  raised  the  money  and  sent  it  to  him. 


JOO'I  A  "dO  Tia  A  8,8si 

.ton  bfiio'j  I  1;:ilf  rncai  tjIhI  ot  lu;il   I   Ji:ilV/ 

--    m:    i,,r.oq/'.,     .f    -.:    '/;:.-.   :-.;:.h[l  v^njfu  'uU 

WHi:N.I.,:WaS;  quite  well  enough  to,  look  aft^r 
myself  ^tirely,  Winifred  -jvent^fPi  i'J9fPi  J^^fJ 
husband,  who  was  in  Scotland,  Helen  wei;it, .  to 
stay  with,  friends,  and  I  returned  to  town.  It 
was  necessary  for  me  to  go  back  to  look  after 
matters,  as  I  had  been  unable  to  attend  to 
anything  while  I  was  ill. 

My  first  care  was  ,  to  run  down  to  my 
trainer  and  see  how  my  stable;  was  getting 
C|n./  Qa  xny,  arrival,  I  found  that  he  had  been 
ill  and  was  away.  The  head  groom  was  in 
charge.  He  was  a  smart  and  business-like 
fellow,  wth  the  smart  and  business-like  name 
of;  Tibb.  Tibb  was  a  name  one  could 
remember  easily,  and  shout  easily,  it  took 
neither  breath  nor  time  to  call  it. 

I  inquired  how  things  had  been  going  oji 
in,  my  t  absence.  ,r 


288  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"  As  well  as  could  be  expected,  sir,"  Tibb 
answered. 

What  I  had  to  infer  from  that  I  could  not 
tell.  Whether  it  was  a  form  of  flattery 
which  implied  that  during  the  absence  of 
the  owner  things  could  not  be  expected  to  go 
perfectly,  or  whether  there  was  something 
else  underlying  it,  it  was  hard  to  guess. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  I  asked.  "  Cap- 
tain Abinger  has  been  down  here  ;  he  has 
given  all  the  orders." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  the  Captain  has  been  down 
here — at  times.  Oh,  he's  given  the  orders 
right  enough,  such  as  they  are." 

"  What  is  it,  Tibb  ?  You  don't  seem  quite 
satisfied.  Come,  tell  me.  I  have  been  ill,  you 
know." 

I  saw  that  there  was  something  wrong,  and 
that  Tibb  would  be  willing  to  unburden 
himself  if  I  gave  him  the  opportunity  for 
confidence. 

"  Well,  I  ain't  satisfied,  that's  a  fact,  sir. 
And  I  don't  suppose  as  you  would  be  neither. 
I've  got  myself  to  look  after.     It  wouldn't  be  a 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  289 

nice  thing  to  be  warned  off,  would  it  now  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,  Tibb,  but—" 

"  But  that's  what  it'll  come  to  one  day, 
however." 

I  need  not  quote  in  detail  the  whole  of  our 
conversation.  I  obtained  Tibb's  confidence, 
and  he  my  promise  of  secrecy.  To  put  the 
matter  shortly,  the  in-and-out  running  of  mine 
and  my  partner's  animals  had  recently  excited 
loud  and  wrathful  comment,  and  things  were  at 
the  moment  in  a  doubtful  condition.  It  was, 
in  fact,  the  ugly  rumours  which  had  been  going 
about  which  had  caused  the  trainer's  absence, 
and  perhaps  Abinger's  retreat  to  Scotland. 

My  illness  had  had  a  sobering  effect  upon  me, 
and  I  quickly  determined  to  put  an  end  to  my 
share  of  the  business.  I  determined  to  write  to 
Abinger  at  once,  and  tell  him  of  my  decision, 
leaving  him  to  carry  on  the  business  on  his 
own  responsibility  if  he  chose,  and  paying  me  a 
fair  share  for  my  interest. 

Before  I  left,  Tibb  gave  me  two  most  un- 
pleasant bits  of  information.  First,  that  one 
powerful  "  bookie,"  powerful  both  by  influence 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 


and*'  *^p1fysique, '  and  well  supported  by  an 
efficient  body-guard,  had  sworn  to  smash  me 
^jth^iirstctinie'he  niet  me."  The  second  was 
a  little  bill  for  traming  and  other  ^-expenses 
which  Abinger  had  told  Tibb  to  ask  me  to 
settle  immediately.  It  came  to  one  thousand 
thrjee,  hundred  and  odd  pounds, -»  ^.^jwasr  |iist 
i^9W-,at  tny  wits'  end  for  money,  and  could  not 
even  if  I  would,  have  settled  this  bill.  On  the 
other  hand  I  had  no  intention  of  doing  any-^ 
thing  of  the  sort.  I  liad  given  Abinger  fuUy^ 
enough  to  pay  all  necessary  expenses  on  my 
behalf,  and  far  from  having  anything  now  to 
pay,  I  ought,  on  the  contrary,  to  have  received 
something  handsome  back.  I  had  almost  been 
relying  on  it.  .r..^^  ]^^.^*.j,.r»-r«-v.xh  Yl-J-vfrTp  I  !)rtn 

oil  .'gave  Tibb  a  ten  pound  note  for  himself  and 
left  with  him  written  orders  to  cancel  the 
engagements  of  all  my  horses. 

Apart  from  the  unpleasantness  to  me  persons- 
ally,  it  made  me  ponder  most  seriously  upon 
the  conduct  of  Abinger,  and  I  knew  now,  what 
I  ought  to  have  known  long  before,  that  he  was 
a  man  not  to  be  trusted  in  any  respect.     I  felt 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  291 

deeply  for  Winifred,  and  bitterly  repented  ever 
having  been  induced  to  allow  her  to  marry  him. 
I  should  never  have  done  so  but  for  my 
infatuation  for  Bella,  an  infatuation  which  even 
now  possessed  me  entirely.  And  yet  on  this 
score  I  was  also  much  troubled.  Tibb  had 
ishowed  me  a  letter  from  Abihger  of  which  the 
postmark  was  Llandudno.  :  Iv  knew  .that ;  Bella 
had  been  staying  as  usual  at  Golwyn  Bay,  and 
I  could  not  forget  my  own  visit  to  the  same 
neighbourhood.  It  was  the  more  remarkable 
in  that  all  the  letters  that  Winifred  had 
received  from  her  husband  had  borne  a  London 
or  South  of  England  postmark,  and  we  were 
neither  of,  iis^wa^e  that  Jbe  had  |>een  into  N9Jfti3 


,^r 


,  /   J 


Wales^i  [)::-  ,-:Th[i;:J 
"  : Still -Mfattiated,  ,but  also  very  jealous,  I  went 
to  see  Pella,  who  Had  by  this  time  returned  to 
Barnes,  with  the  intention  of  having  it  out 
with  her.  . 

I  found  her  melancholy,  but -very  affectionate. 
.She  seemed  really  delighted  to  see  me.    .  Z  "' 
I  'On  my  way  I  had  rehearsed  a  hundred  times 
all  the  things  I  was  going  to  say,  and:  dlratiiab- 


292  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

tized  and  staged  iii  my  mind  the  whole  scene. 
Needless  to  say  that  it  did  not  go  that  way  in 
reality,  and  I  said  none  of  the  things  that  I 
had  intended.  It  is  the  great  failure  of  these 
imagined  episodes  that  the  plot  and  the  sequel 
depend  much  upon  the  dialogue,  and  when  the 
other  person  declines  to  take  the  attitude  and 
say  the  words  which  give  the  openings,  the 
whole  matter  comes  to  nothing,  or  takes  an 
entirely  unexpected  course. 

"  I  thought  you  had  quite  forsaken  me,"  she 
said  in  languidly  reproachful  tones,  and  with  a 
glance  of  her  eyes  that  quenched  anger.  "  I 
didn't  dare  do  more  than  call  and  leave  my  card 
when  you  were  ill.  It  would  not  have  done. 
It  would  have  set  people  talking,  and  it  won't 
do  for  us  to  get  talked  about,  will  it,  Horace  ?  " 

There  was  much  more  in  this  style,  and  I 
found  it  impossible  to  resist  the  fascination. 
Once  I  recovered  myself  so  far  as  to  ask  her, 
casually,  if  she  had  seen  anything  of  Abinger. 

"  No,  indeed,"  she  answered  with  perfect 
simplicity,  and  though  I  looked  at  her  I  could 
detect  no  sign  of  untruthfulness  in  her  grey; 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  293 

eyes,  nothing  but  a  look  of  mild  interrogation 
as  though  she  expected  me  to  say  something 
more  by  way  of  explanation.  I  had  nothing  to 
say,  and  at  last  she  said, — 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  thought  you  might  have,  as  I  hear 
he  was  at  Llandudno  not  long  ago." 

A  shade  of  slight  annoyance  crossed  her  face. 

"  Was  he  ?  It  is  a  little  discourteous, 
seeing  how  long  he  has  known  us,  not  to  have 
come  over  to  Colwyn." 

"  Perhaps  he  was  only  there  on  business,"  I 
suggested. 

"  That  is  hardly  a  good  excuse,"  she 
answered,  "but  I  am  afraid  that  Captain 
Abinger  is  a  little  careless  in  his  social  duties. 
I  only  hope  it  won't  go  against  Winifred. 
We  are  old  friends,  and  know  each  other  well, 
but  some  people  might  not  so  easily  overlook 
it." 

I  was  absolutely  convinced  that  my 
suspicions  were  wrong. 

Then  we  fell  to  talking  of  other  things,  and 
this    led   to   the   usual    consequences,    and   to 


r^m  ^^  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

love-making,  wherein  I,  who  had ,  perforce  been 
a  recluse  for  so  long-,  exceeded  myeelf  in  my 
'folly.  Every  other  thought  was  drowned  in 
the  allurements  of  the  woman;  rhy '  honour, 
my  sister's  honour,  the  magnificently  healthy 
-beauty  and  innocence,:  of  .  Helem, ;  *  all  >were 
forgotten.  •^,,.,,,  .,^j.,f  jn{tn^^mnv4.l U\  PAvn  '>\\ 
.'  ";Why  do  you  make  me  love  yoii  so?"  I 
,cried  in  an  ecstasy  of  passion.  '     ,.,'//  " 

'  "I'  want. five  thousand  pounds,"  she  said, 
with  her  lips  so  close  to  mine  that  the  words 
iwere  nearly  muffied.  i  ip.^^nilvi  -. 

The  man  who  wakes  from  a  dream  of 
paradise  to  find  himself  in  the  condemned  cell 
on  the  morning  of  his  execution,  can  have  no 
.ruder  shock.  I  was  unable  to  speak  or  to  move. 
.  "I  want  five  thousand  pounds,"  she 
repeated,  "  and  I  must  have  it  at  once."      <.  '^V/ 

"Bella!  I— I  can't!  I  haven't  got  it. '"l 
can't  get  it."  ^ 

She  drew  herself  back  on  the  sofa,  as  calm 
and  unimpassioned  as  a  waxwork. 

"I  must  have  it.  Are  you  going  to  give  it 
tine,  or  not  ?  " 


I^UNIVE.PSJTY  j 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  -295 

-Jf/M^r  manner  chilled  me  to  despair.    "[     I  '* 

"  I_I,  oh,  if  Ihad  it,  yes  !  "  ■'•''  -^f'-     -■'■'>  ^^-^^ 

'''   She  shrugged  her  shoulders.  '^-ff'^'J  i'  '^'f '* 

■'^^  You're  a  fool,"  she  said.  "'^     '''' ^'' 

Anger    and    passion    were  having    a    Harcl 

battle  in  me.   .  ,     / 

"  I     can't    get    it,     Bella,  not     so     much. 

Wouldn't  less-?"     ;    ,^,;^     ,^^,^    ,^,,^,     .;       ^^.^;^ 

/.    "I  want  that."  .  •    -  •    / 

'  ''^'  But,  I  have  no  money  now  ;  I  have  all  sorts 
of  expenses  to  meet,  and  I  can't  raise  so  much." 

"  Then  I  must  find  a  man  who  can.  Your 
expenses  are  your  own  matter." 

"  Bella  !  Bella  !  I  could  say  no  more. 
To  speak  of  her  unblushing  effrontery,  her 
brazen  impudence,  and  all  the  usual  terms 
employed  in  such  cases,  in  no  way  represents 
her  demeanour.  She  spoke  as  though  she 
were  God  and  Fate.  Reproaches,  invective 
were  useless  before  this  woman.  She  was 
supreme  in  herself  :  what  she  decreed,  what 
she  desired,  that  must  be.  7   ')A 

"  Well  ?"  she  said,  after  a  long  pauses.!/;    *inoii 


,296  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"  I— I"  No  words  would  form  them- 
selves.    She  saw  her  advantage. 

"Be  a  sensible  boy.  Go  away  and  think  it 
over.  Come  to  me  to-morrow,  and — "  She 
did  not  finish  her  sentence,  but  her  expression 
was  more  eloquent  than  any  words. 

Dazed  and  nervous,  I  left  the  house, 
prepared  to  commit  any  folly,  to  take  any 
risk.  It  was  past  three  in  the  afternoon.  As 
my  cab  drove  over  Westminster  Bridge  from 
Waterloo,  I  saw  the  great  flag  flying  on  the 
Victoria  Tower,  and  I  knew  that  near  at  hand 
was  a  dull,  hard-working  and  pompous  member 
of  Parliament,  named  St.  John-Elliot,  working 
in  an  antumn  session  where  none  attend 
except  those  who  are  dragged  there  by  duty, 
ambition,  or  self-importance,  and  when  the 
cranks,  the  windbags,  and  the  unknown  have 
the  House  to  themselves. 

I  drove  direct  to  Mr.  Salmon^s  office,  and 
was  lucky  enough  to  find  that  gentleman  there. 
Business  had,  of  course,  been  very  dull,  and 
he  would  have  gone  home,  or  elsewhere,  an 
hour    ago    had    he    not    fallen    asleep    in    the 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  297 

soothing     company     of     a    bottle     of    brown 
sherry. 

When  I  entered  the  room  he  was  nearly 
quite  awake,  but  still  very  mellow.  This  was 
fortunate.  Even  as  it  was  I  had  great 
difficulty  in  convincing  him  of  the  desirability 
of  permitting  me  to  increase  my  indebtedness, 
but  I. was  persistent.  I  was  driven  by  despair, 
and  agreed  to  the  most  ruinous  conditions. 
Seeing  that  the  time  was  rapidly  approaching 
when  I  should  be  able  to  settle  up  his  claim, 
I  got  reckless.  The  victory  was  mine,  but  at 
a  price,  and  though  I  obtained  no  less  than 
ten  thousand,  I  had  made  my  fortune  respon- 
sible for  nearly  double  that  sum.  I  am  well 
aware  that  I  could  have  obtained  through 
banks,  and  other  legitimate  channels,  all  I 
wanted  at  reasonable  terms  ;  but  I  was  in  such 
a  hurry  always  in  these  matters  that  I  could 
not  await  the  delay  necessary  for  the  completion 
of  the  formalities,  the  life  assurance,  and  that 
rot,  required  in  these  cases.  I  preferred  to 
get  the  money  at  once  and  let  the  future  take 
C^re  for  itself.     Of  cou;-se  I  -yv^as  a  fool  ;  but  I 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

have  the  questionable  satisfaction  of  not  being 
the  only  one. 

I  had  half  a  mind  to  go  back  to  Bella  at 
once.  '  But  I  forbore  to  do  so.  Feeling  safe, 
i  gave  myself  the  pleasure  of  suspense:  I 
spent  the.evenmg  m  town,  gomg  to  a  music 
hall— there  was  no  one  at  the  club. 

A  little  after  eleven.  I  returned  to  my 
chambers.  My  man  was  going  to  speak  to 
me,  but  I  passed  on  to  my  sitting-room, 
:ithinking  he  wished  to  ask  about  supper  and 
iwould  follow. 

-  Winifred  was  in  the  sitting-room.  The 
Imoment  I  looked  at  her  I  saw  she  had  been 
icxying.  I  closed  the  door/ 
I  ''I'll  never  live  with  him  again  !  "  she  cried, 
/before  I  had  tinie  to  ask  why  she  was  there. 
.'**Look!^'  and  she  slipped  the  bodice  she 
fwas  wearing  down  from  her  shoulders.  Her 
■ariiis  were'  black  and  blue,  and  little  dark 
bruises,  as  of  fingers,  showed  about  her 
throat. 

Myipassion  boiled  up.-'0'j  10 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  ^299 

"  He  did  that  !  I'll  thrash  him  till  I  or  he 
can't  stand,"  I  cried. 

"He  is  in  Scotland.  I  left  him,"  Winifred 
said. 

"  How  did  you  get  those  marks  ?  "  I  asked. 
"  Is  he  mad  ?  " 

''I  wouldn% > give  clHi» -rar^^more  money. 
That's  why  !"  " 

'} 

'MIool    'd:i^    £    Jool    £    iiood    0-/1    ,iIO" 

<oxi     ,ori — ^Sili     1q    ,j  Jug!:)     on     qy'I     ^gsY '' 

7i)ii  lol  '\-LnL-Lriii  ou  oi  iij^^rri  j'liob  I  ^slonlW 
OJ  iOv:>  i-il  Lriji  ^-hov/  oi  iru^^^  ^^^^  x!Juo:ii 
^  i'l  si  -j:dv.'  :^:u2  ''     .eI>iov7  '(m  :Ij:  eiLvJ  rlliw  IIS 

"  \  JIjs  icZ 
b£Ul^uodi    xinow/i   mid   nsvi^    i^v-::!    I     .oZ  '' 

"  *:  ^50-1-:- :..lvv  :ioT:  " 
j[tiiiIcj:o     frxo    I       .v/on^I    vlbix:!    'j'ciol)    I  " 

-  ''.jj:idI  yI::o  cL?;—- I     .:i  x-:ii:i£W 

;  I>:i:qoi  00  01 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 

*'  How  much  have  you  given  him  ?"    I  asked. 

"  Oh,  IVe  been  a  fool,  a  silly  fool  ! " 
Winifred  moaned,  by  way  of  answer. 

"  Yes,  I've  no  doubt  of  that — no,  no, 
Winnie,  I  don't  mean  to  be  unkind,"  for  her 
mouth  had  begun  to  work,  and  her  eyes  to 
fill  with  tears  at  my  words.  "  But  what  is  it  ? 
Not  all  ?  " 

"  No.  I  have  given  him  twenty  thousand 
altogether." 

"  For  what  purpose  ?  " 

"  I  don't  hardly  know.  I  can't  explain. 
He  always  had  some  good  reason  for 
wanting  it.     It — was  only  lent." 

"  To  be  repaid  ?  " 

"  Soon  ;  but  soon  never  came." 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  301 

*'  And  this  present  amount  ?  What  did 
he  want  that  for  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  know,  Horace  ?  "  she  answered, 
in  a  tone  of  something  near  surprise, 

"  No,  indeed.     How  should  I  ?  " 

"  It  was  to  pay  expenses  incurred  by 
you." 

"Byrne?    The  liar  !  " 

And  then  we  talked  far  into  the  night. 
Winifred  told  me  the  whole  story,  a  story 
that  I  might  have  guessed  if  I  had  not  been 
so  blind.  Almost  from  the  very  fxrst  he  had 
behaved  cruelly  to  her,  and  only  showed 
affection  when  he  wished  to  get  some 
money  from  her.  She  was  determined 
upon  one  thing,  that  she  would  never  live 
with  him  again,  and  would  seek  a  separa- 
tion. 

To  my  mind  a  separation  was  not  a 
satisfactory  solution.  Winifred  was  young, 
two  and  twenty  only,  and  it  was  clear  that 
the  proper  thing  to  aim  at  v\^as  a  divorce. 
But,    of    course,    some    other    evidence    of    a 


30g  A':BIT  DF'A  FQDL 

Hififenent; /nature  .was.  necessary.  .'I:  suggested 
it  to  Winifred.  « s  loi  issii  iiisv/  od 

.bivoi^t::  I.  'know^V^Jie  s^  r  "  J^^t^j-I  v^on't 
like  it — I  shouldn't  like  to  know,  if  it  were 
so  ;  I  should  ieel  that  1  had  been  acting.  Jn 
an  underhand  manner  in  Having  secret 
inquiries  made. 

"  But  have  you  no  suspicions  ?  **  *      ^ 

Winifred  was  silent  for  a  time.  •  '-^'^^  ^-'^ 
--^bon-'t-i  ask  me,  H-orace,"  she-' -fealdi-^-at 
length.  .-'/toi?.  olodw  ';rit  om  bloi  b'^'iiimY/" 
XI  ft  For  instance,"  I  suggested,  ."doJ  you 
kndw.  that  he  was  getting  letters  posted'  ta 
you  in  London,  at  .a.Hnxe  when  ..he  .waaW 
somewhere  else  ?'i>';: I:^,: 7/  ,v:f  i:;dv/  i-oiit-^oBs 
j,  .In  spite  of  my  .  previous  ccaiviction,  the 
Llandudno  incident .  would  recur ;  to  my  mind, 
and  though  I  did  hot  wish  to  go  into  detailsjf 
I  could  not  help  making  the  hint.  .. ::' 

JB  "  Do  you  know  that  to  be  a  fact  ?"  .  she 
asked,  biting  her  lips.:  //  .aoijulo?  vio^:>ijiarfi:2 
;:^/iIdo."  :       •  ■  >v/:t 

.  '5*1  will  see,  I  will  see.      I  don't  knowfwbal 

I  ought  to  do."         ._.a^      :>-.....       ,..:.....  yj      10      ,Ji/S 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  -303 

"And  meanwhile,  where  do  you  propose 
to  live  ?  I  suppose  you  don't  mean  to  go 
to  the  house  again,  but  you  can't  live  by 
yourself,  you  know.  If  Abinger  is  such  a 
blackguard  as  he  appears,  we  must  give  him 
no  opportunity  of  making  counter  charges." 

"  I  have  written  to  Helen,  and  we  are 
going  to  live  together  somewhere,"  Winifred 
said. 

"  That's  right.  And  now  I  must  put  you 
up  here  for  the  night." 

Next  morning  Helen  arrived,  and  we  found 
lodgings  for  them.  Then  I  went  to  a  well- 
known  firm  of  solicitors  and  put  the  matter 
in  their  hands.  I  was  determined  that, 
whatever  might  be  Winifred's  scruples,  a 
divorce  must  be  procured  if  possible,  and 
unfortunately  I  had  little  doubt  from  what 
I  knew  of  Abinger,  which  was  much,  that 
there  would  be  little  difficulty  on  that  score. 
When  we  had  dined  well,  Abinger  used 
to  become  rather  free  in  his  remarks,  and 
although  I  should  not  have  interfered  if 
Winifred  had  been  happy  (for  after  all  it  was 


304  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

common  enough,  and  quite  an  accepted 
thing  in  the  class  of  society  in  which  we  lived), 
yet  when  it  came  to  fighting,  I  had  no  scruples 
about  using  my  knowledge,  for  all  is  fair  in 
love  and  war,  and  divorce  may  be  said  to  be 
a  sort  of  mixture  of  the  two. 

That  little  matter  being  over,  I  went  off  to 
see  Bella.  When  I  entered  she  was  reading 
a  letter,  which  she  hastily  put  in  her  pocket, 
not,  however,  before  I  had  unconsciously 
noticed  that  the  writing  was  Abmger's,  or 
very  like  it. 

"  Dear  boy,"  she  said,  "  I  knew  you  would 
do  as  I  wished.  It's  no  goOd,  you  know, 
saying  can't  when  I  say  must,  is  it?  " 

"To  tell  the  honest  truth,  Bella,  I  did 
not  think  I  was  any  more  likely  to  get  it 
than  the  crown  of  England." 

"  Of  course  not,  but  you  have  got  it.  I 
knew  you  would.  Where  there's  a  will 
there's  a  way." 

"  The  will  is  yours— " 

"  And  the  way  yours.    That's  hints." 

A  scene  of  affection  followed. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  305 

"  By  the  way/'  I  said  at  length,  when  I 
was  thinking  of  going,  "  Abinger  has  behaved 
very  badly  to  Winifred,  and  she  has  left  him." 

"  Indeed," — Bella  raised  her  eyebrows 
very  much — "  I  suppose  she  will  go  back 
and  not  be  stupid." 

"  No,  she  won't,  and  I  won't  let  her,  any- 
how.    Nor  would  you,  if  you  knew." 

Then  I  told  her  part  of  the  story. 

"This  is  all  very  sad  and  very  foolish," 
she  said.  "  I  do  hope  they  won't  wash  their 
dirty  linen  in  public,  however.  Do  persuade 
Winnie  to  settle  the  matter  quietly.  Don't 
have  a  scandal.  Scandals  are  such  bad 
form." 

There  was  something  of  unusual  interest 
in  her  tone.  It  might  have  been  that,  as  she 
knew  both  well,  she  felt  it  touched  her 
personally.  On  the  other  hand,  it  seemed 
to  me  almost  as  if  there  were  some  further 
motive  in  her  advice.  Perhaps  it  was  only 
my  jealousy  that  suggested  this  interpreta- 
tion. 

I  promised  I  would  do  what  I  could. 


3o6  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

A  week  or  so  passed,  and  Winifred  received 
two  or  three  very  humble  letters  from  her 
husband.  I  was  inclined  to  advise  her  to 
make  it  up  this  time,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  he  had  showed  himself  to  be  a  coward 
of  the  worst  type.  Above  all  things,  I  hate  a 
row,  and  this  no  doubt  influenced  me  to 
some  extent.  I  believe  that  I  would  suffer 
a  very  great  deal  to  avoid  a  scene. 

Helen,  who  was  now  always  with  Winifred, 
said  little,  but  when  her  opinion  was  asked, 
she  gave  it  like  one  who  had  made  up  her 
mind,  and  having  made  it  up  would  never 
change  it.  Her  invariable  advice  was  that 
by  no  means  must  Winifred  consent  to 
rejoin  her  husband. 

For  one  who  was  endowed  with  a  sweet 
and  kindly  disposition,  this  attitude  appeared 
exceptionally  cruel.  I  could  only  suppose 
that  she  knew  a  great  deal  more  than  she 
cared  to  say. 

On  one  occasion  I  found  her  alone,  and 
took  the  opportunity  of  asking  her  point 
blank  why  she  took  up  this  position. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  307 

"  Captain  Abinger,"  she  said,  **  is  a  bad 
man.  I  know  it.  I  need  say  no  more. 
Winifred  could  never  be  happy  with  him. 
He  wants  her  only  for  her  money.  When 
that  was  gone,  he  would  desert  her.  I  am 
certain  of  this." 

I  did  not  dare  question  her  further.  She 
seemed  so  positive  that  I  felt  that  she  must 
have  very  clear  reason  for  her  opinion,  a 
reason  which  I  thought  it  best  not  to  inquire 
into. 

She  saw  by  my  looks  what  was  passing  in 
my  mind. 

"  You  will  promise  never  to  let  Winifred 
know  if  I  tell  you  something,"  she  said. 

I  promised  most  faithfully. 

"  He  dared  once  to  make  love  to  me.  He 
thought  I  was  a  poor  unsophisticated  girl 
who  would  be  dazzled  by  him.  He  made  a 
mistake.     We  have  never  spoken  since." 

There  was  a  big  gap  in  the  story,  which 
however,  was  amply  told  in  the  phrase  "  he 
made  a  mistake."  I  would  have  given  some- 
thing to  harve  seen  that  mistake  made. 


3o8  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

I  had  long  ago  conceded  most  of  the 
moral  and  physical  virtues  to  Helen,  but  I 
had  not  hitherto  given  her  credit  for  the 
possession  of  such  rare  determination.  I 
thought  to  myself  what  an  excellent  wife  she 
would  make  for  some  men  that  I  had  met 
who  only  needed  a  strong  controlling  influence 
to  be  excellent  fellows,  but  who  were  likely 
to  go  wrong  for  want  of  it. 

A  few  days  later  I  was  surprised  at  receiving 
a  visit  from  Helen  at  my  chambers  immedi- 
ately after  breakfast.  She  was  alone.  I  had 
looked  to  see  Winifred  with  her. 

She  saw  the  slight  trace  of  surprise  in  my 
face,  and  with  a  charming  air  of  confident 
innocence,  said, — 

"  I  am  afraid  this  is  dreadfully  improper, 
isn't  it?  Improper  is  the  right  word,  I  am 
sure.  But  it  only  reflects  on  me,  and  I  have 
none  but  myself  to  mind.  I  have  risked  it. 
Besides,"  she  added,  dropping  her  bantering 
air,  "  it  is  necessary.  Winifred  felt  unable 
herself  to  tell  you  what  I  have  come  to  say. 
It   is    not   very   pleasant,   indeed   it   is   a   very 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  309 

iielicate  task.  But  I  look  on  you,  Horace, 
in  the  light  of  almost  a  brother,  and  somehow 
I  don't  mind  saying  to  you  things  that  I 
should  scruple  to  say  to  any  other  man.  I 
seem  to  know  you,  and  to  be  able  to  trust 
you.  You  will  not  take  advantage  of  the 
position  to  my  discomfiture." 

"  Of  course  not,  Helen.  Tell  me  all  about 
it." 

"  I  hardly  think  you  will  entirely  like  it. 
I  may  have  to  say  things  which  will  make 
you  very  uncomfortable  ;  but  you  must  not 
mind." 

I  felt  rather  uneasy.  Somehow  the  girl 
seemed  to  make  all  my  follies  I  was  rather 
proud  of  amongst  my  friends  appear  mean 
and  contemptible,  and  I  could  not  help 
likening  my  attitude  before  her  to  that  of  a 
favourite  dog  who  knows  he  has  stolen,  and 
wonders  if  his  master  knows. 

"  We  have  a  report  from  the  solicitors 
this  morning,  and  we  have  got  a  clear  case. 
There  should  be  no  difficulty  from  their  point 
of  view."^ 


3IQ  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"  I  supposed  that  would  be  so,"  I  said. 
"  I  had  good  reason  to  doubt  Abinger's 
fideHty." 

It  was  strange  that  I  felt  no  discomfort 
in'  speaking  of  such  a  subject  with  a  girl  of 
less  than  my  own  age.  I  should  have 
imagined  prima  facie  that  a  conversation  of 
this  sort  could  have  been  carried  on  under 
two  conditions,  either  with  extreme  difficulty 
and  shame,  or  with  effrontery  and  double 
intention.  This  was  not  the  case  with  Helen. 
I  could  talk  with  her  as  easily  as  with  my 
solicitor. 

^'  But  from  our  point  of  view  a  difficulty 
arises,"  Helen  continued,  taking  no  notice  of 
my  somewhat  unwise  remark  ;  "  this  difficulty 
is  with  the  co-respondent,  she  who  must 
with  present  information  be  made  co-respon- 
dent." 

I  felt  the  blood  leave  my  face  and  my  heart 
pause  in  its  beat  ;  for  I  knew  now  what  the 
information  obtained  was. 

"  Yes,"  and  my  voice  was  thick. 

"  This  lady  was  once  an  intimate  friend  of 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  311 

the  family.  If  the  suit  were  Instituted  upon 
this  charge,  complications  might  arise  which 
would  be  far  from  pleasant,  which,  indeed, 
would  create  such  a  scandal  that  none  of  us 
could  ever  hold  up  our  heads  again." 

I  knew  that  I  was  tracing  with  my  eyes 
the  pattern  of  the  carpet,  and  dared  not  look 
tip. 

"  We  cannot,  I  think,  proceed  on  these 
lines  at  present.  That  is  what  I  have  advised, 
I  have  come  to  ask  your  opinion  also." 

Had  she  asked  me  point  blank  as  to  my 
position  with  Bella  it  would  have  made 
little  difference.  I  saw  that  she  knew,  and 
it  was  no  good  trying  to  evade  the  evident 
meaning  of  her  words. 

I  was  silent  for  a  long  time,  feeling  guilty 
beyond  expression.  At  last,  rising  from  my 
seat  and  pacing  the  room,  but  never  facing 
Helen,  I  said  with  difficulty, — 

"  I  think  we  had  better  not.  We  must 
look  for  evidence  elsewhere.  I — I  think  it 
might  be  obtained.  We  do  not  wish  to  drag 
others  into  this.     Indeed,  we  must  not." 


312  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"You  are  right,  Horace.  I  will  tell  Wini- 
fred.     I  must  go  now." 

I  took  her  to  the  door.  As  we  parted  I 
grasped  her  hand  and  for  the  first  time 
looked  her  in  the  face.  I  think  that  repent- 
ance must  have  been,  clearly  written  in  my 
looks,  for  she  gazed  at  me  with  such  a 
pitiful  but  forgiving  sorrow  that  it  was  all  I 
could  do  to  keep  the  tears  from  my  eyes.  I 
doubt  if  I  quite  succeeded. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Wh^n  I  was  by  myself  my  mind  was  in  such 
a  state  of  tumult  that  I  could  not  think 
connectedly.  I  was  madly  angry  with  Bella, 
and  yet  when  I  thought  of  her  my  mad 
passion  for  her  rose  up  and  swamped  my 
anger.  I  felt  that  I  must  either  kiss  her  or 
kill  her,  perhaps  both.  And  then  again, 
when  the  image  of  Helen  came  to  me,  I 
loathed  Bella  and  I  loathed  myself.  I  was 
quite  distracted. 

In  time  I  made  up  my  mind,  foolishly 
perhaps,  to  go  and  see  her  for  the  last  time. 
Once  more  I  prepared  the  scene  beforehand, 
and  I  pictured  myself,  after  beating  her  down 
with  reproaches,  still  further  crushing  her 
with  the  generosity  which  I  and  Winifred 
had  displayed  in  forbearing  to  punish  her  as 


314  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

she  deserved.  It  was  a  very  noble  scene, 
and  I  acted  part  of  it  in  front  of  the  glass. 
To  such  paltering  do  most  men's  minds  give 
way  in  cases  of  great  emergency.  The  stormy 
situations  come  so  seldom  in  real  life  that  it 
is  most  difficult  to  take  them  quite  seriously  ; 
they  always  wear  a  histrionic  look. 

As  I  started  out  on  this  memorable  day  to 
go  to  Barnes,  I  ran  against  Scovell  in  the 
street.  His  face  was  bronzed,  but  he  was 
dressed  in  entire  black. 

"  I  had  to  come  back  from  India  suddenly," 
he  said  in  answer  to  my  greeting,  "perhaps 
you  heard     .     .     .     ." 

I  had  been  so  much  taken  up  with  my  own 
affairs  latterly  that  I  had  paid  no  attention 
to  other  matters. 

"  I  thought  possibly  you  had  seen  it 
announced.  How  are  you?  You  don't  look 
well.     And  how  is  Winifred  getting  on?" 

I  made  him  walk  a  way  with  me  and  told 
him  mostly  how  we  had  fared.  I  did  not  tell 
him  all.  When  it  came  to  Winifred,  I  saw 
him  bite  his  lip  as  he  listened. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  315 

"That  man  was  always  a  brute,"  he 
exclaimed.  "  I  wonder  you  did  not  see  it 
before." 

And  yet  there  was  a  kind  of  wild  joy  in  his 
eye  as  he  spoke. 

"  I  will  get  you  to  take  me  to  see  your  sister 
one  day.  I  should  like  to  see  her,  but  I  had 
better  not  call  alone,  eh  ?  " 

I  did  not  see  for  a  moment  what  he  meant. 

"That  man  is  base  enough  to  make  any 
charge  in  defence.  Don't  you  see  ?  Besides, 
he  hates  me." 

Soon  we  parted,  and  I  took  a  cab  to  Barnes. 
As  I  approached  the  house  I  caught  sight  for 
a  moment  of  Bella's  form  at  a  window.  She 
was  gone  in  a  moment. 

The  footman  told  me  stolidly  that  Mrs.  St. 
John-Elliot  was  not  at  home.  But  I  intended 
to  have  no  refusal.  I  saw  that  a  storm  was 
imminent,  but  I  was  determined  to  see  it  out. 
I  had  something  to  say  and  meant  to  say  it. 

"Say,"  I  replied,  "that  I  must  see  her  for 
a  moment  on  an  important  matter — " 

The    footman    came   back   presently,    and   I 


3i6  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

was  shown  into  the  drawing-room.  I  waited 
there  for  fully  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  but  Bella 
did  not  come.  I  thought  that  I  was  going 
to  be  tricked,  and  that  she  was  probably- 
taking  an  opportunity  of  getting  out  of  the 
house. 

Presently,  however,  she  entered  the  room 
fully  dressed  for  going  out.  I  advanced  to 
greet  her  in  the  usual  manner,  but  she  made 
no  movement  of  response. 

"  I  wonder  you  have  not  better  manners," 
she  said  with  icy  disdain,  "  than  to  force  your 
way  into  a  lady's  house.  You  were  at  least 
born  in  good  enough  society  to  understand 
the  meaning  of  not  being  at  home.  However, 
rather  than  risk  a  scene  before  the  servants, 
I  have  consented  to  see  you.  What  do  you 
want?" 

This  was  not  a  very  promising  opening,  but 
I  felt  that  the  gravity  of  the  situation  made 
it  excusable  to  break  through  the  ordinary 
forms  of  courtesy. 

"  I  have  this  morning  learnt  some  very 
unpleasant  news,  Bella." 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  317 

She  raised  her  eyebrows  menacingly  at  the 
mention  of  her  name. 

"  Spare  me  your  famiharities,  please." 

"And  I  have  come  to  see  you,  and  to  ask 
for  an  explanation  if  you  have  one  to  give." 

"  I  shall  give  you  no  explanation  at  all.  I 
do  not  wish  to  see  you  again." 

"  That's  all  very  well,"  I  answered,  losing 
my  equanimity,  "  but  you'll  have  to  explain, 
or  there  may  be  difficulties.  I  came  to  make 
you  an  offer,  and  it  may  be  as  well  that  you 
should  listen  to  me." 

"  Indeed.  You're  very  kind,"  and  she 
laughed  ironically.  "  What  do  you  want  to 
know  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  know  whether  it  is  true  about 
you  and  Abinger  ?  It  is  disgraceful,  it  is 
shameful,"  I  went  on  with  heat,  "that 
knowing  what  you  know,  and  having  been 
mainly  instrumental  in  this  marriage,  you 
should  have  behaved  like  this." 

So  far  I  had  got  through  part  of  my  pro- 
gramme with  more  or  less  sneers.  What  I 
had  not  foreseen  was  what  followed. 


3i8  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

She  turned  on  me  with  an  expression  of 
rage  of  which  I  should  not  have  beUeved  her 
still  beautiful  face  could  be  capable. 

"  So  you  and  your  miserable  sister  have  been 
setting  spies  on  me  !  I  might  have  known 
what  to  expect  from  an  ill-bred,  purse-proud 
pair  of  fools  like  you  two.  Do  you  think  I 
care — that  !  for  your  silly  sister  or  for  you  ? 
I  squeezed  you,  you  wretched  little  cur,  for 
what  you  were  worth  :  God  knows  it  was  not 
much  !  And  I  kick  you  into  the  gutter  like  a 
bit  of  dirty  orange  peel.  Abinger  has  done 
the  same  for  the  other  idiot,  and  serve  her 
right  !  Now  then,  what  do  you  want  ? 
Have  you  come  here  to  try  blackmail? 
If  so,  you've  come  to  the  wrong  place. 
A  pretty  fellow  you  to  come  playing  the 
righteous  and  indignant  brother  !  What  right 
have  you,  I  should  like  to  know,  to  call 
Abinger,  to  call  me  to  book  ?  How  do  you 
stand  ?  " 

I  stood  very  badly,  and  I  knew  it. 

"Listen  to  me,  Bella,"  I  said.  "I  loved 
you,  I  still  love  you,  and  it  is  because  of  that 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  319 

I  came  to  see  you.  I  came  to  save  you  from 
disgrace  at  all  costs.  Do  you  not  care  for  me 
enough  to  be  reasonable  ?  " 

"  Care  for  you  ?  Pff  !  If  I  could  have  done 
without  your  money  I  would  never  have  allowed 
you  to  enter  my  house.  Do  you  understand 
that  ?  And  your  sister  is  as  bad  as  your- 
self." 

I  could  have  stood  a  good  deal  myself,  but 
when  she  turned  her  tongue  on  Winifred  I 
fairly  bubbled  over  with  rage. 

"  Very  well,"  I  said,  grinding  my  teeth. 
"  We'll  make  you  co-respondent." 

She  laughed  aloud. 

"  Oh,  you  will  ?  Do  it.  I  shall  confess  to 
Douglas  about  you.  He  may  condone  others, 
but  he  shall  not  condone  yours,  and  we'll 
bleed  you  of  every  halfpenny  you  have  got. 
Do  it.  You  two  shall  be  made  to  look  as 
mean  a  pair  of  apes  in  the  witness-box  as  one 
ever  saw.  You  shall  be  the  laughing-stock  of 
London.  Now  do  your  best  and  your  worst. 
And  in  addition  I'll  have  you  thrashed  on 
your  club  steps.       There  are  plenty  to  do  it. 


320 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 


not  forgetting  one  or  two  racing  men.     Now 

go!" 

She  rang  the  bell.  When  the  footman 
came,  she  said, — 

"  Show  this  person  out,  and  don't  let  him 
come  here  again/* 

If  ever  a  dazed  man  went  home,  that  man 
was  I.  Bella  had  beaten  me  at  every  point. 
She  knew  only  too  well  that  the  scandal  that 
would  be  raised  would  kill  Winifred,  and  drive 
me  to  madness.  I  dimly  apprehended  the 
figure  I  should  cut  in  the  witness-box  in  the 
hands  of  a  clever  counsel.  It  made  me  pale 
and  sick  to  think  of  it.  For  in  spite  of  her 
violence  and  her  vulgarity  there  was  no  small 
amount  of  truth  underlying  what  Bella  had 
said. 

Bella  was  not  joined  in  the  suit  of  Abinger 
against  Abinger.  But  she  made  me  feel  her 
anger  nevertheless  :  I  was  not  actually  assaulted 
in  the  street,  but  London  was  made  too  hot 
for  me.  I  only  knew  people  in  the  set  in 
which  Bella  was  a  kind  of  queen,  and  I  soon 
discovered  the  extent  of  her  power.     The  men 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  321 

were  only  too  willing  to  obey  her  behests  ioX; 
the  sake  of  the  favours  she  had  to  bestow,  as 
indeed  I  had  been  before.  I  was  snubbed,  I 
was  cut,  men  whispered  behind  their  hands 
to  one  another  when  I  appeared,  duns  from 
every  direction  came  down  upon  me,  my 
credit  was  gone,  Salmon  became  nasty  about 
his  bills  and  declined  to  renew,  summonses, 
writs,  petitions  in  bankruptcy,  poured  in  upon 
me,  until  I  did  not  know  which  way  to  turn. 
There  was  no  more  miserable  creature  than  I 
during  the  next  few  months.  From  all  this 
storm  there  was  but  one  place  of  shelter,  the 
lodging  of  Winifred  and  Helen.  There  I 
got  advice  and  comfort,  and  kind  words  and 
affection.  For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I 
saw  the  power  for  good  that  a  good  woman 
holds.  It  is  a  revelation  which  may  never  come 
to  some  men  in  the  whole  course  of  their  lives, 
and  I  shall  never  regret  the  evils  that  came 
upon  me  at  that  time,  if  only  because  they 
opened  up  to  me  this  wonder. 

The  efifect  of  all  these  things  was  to  break 
down   my   health,   and   in   the   ensuing   winter 


3^5  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

I  went  to  the  South  of  France,  leaving  my 
affairs  in  the  hands  of  my  solicitors,  with 
instructions  to  keep  things  smooth  until  I 
was  able  to  attend  to  them  myself. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

I  WAS  to  endeavour  to  be  quiet,  but  cheerful. 
Those  were  the  doctor's  orders.  I  think  he 
had  some  fear  that  the  trouble  through  which 
I  had  gone,  and  the  worries  I  was  subjected 
to  might  upset  my  mind  if  allowed  to  go  on. 
Perhaps  he  was  right.  There  are  many 
cases  like  mine. 

It  is  hard  for  me  to  believe  now,  and  quite 
impossible  to  convince  others,  how  much  I 
had  felt  the  rupture  with  Bella.  I  know  that 
ordinary,  phlegmatic,  comfortable  people 
must  either  think  me  an  idiot  or  a  humbug. 
After  Bella's  atrocious  conduct  it  should 
have  been  impossible  for  me  to  have  any 
other  sentiment  towards  her  than  one  of 
lofty  contempt.  I  tried  at  first  to  cultivate 
this   attitude,   only  to   find   in   the   end  that  I 


324  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

was  vainly  endeavoring  to  masquerade 
before  myself.  Lofty  contempt  was  by  no 
means  my  true  feeling.  It  was  broken- 
heartedness.  Does  this  sound  absurd  ?  I 
have  a  fancy  that  any  other  man  in  my  posi- 
tion, if  he  dared  confess  truly,  would  have 
the  same  story  to  tell.  Of  course,  it  is  all 
very  weak,  very  wrong,  very  immoral,  but 
I  believe  that  the  average  man  is  that.  Some 
men  never  have  the  experience,  others  never 
have  the  awakening.  These  have  no  right  to 
speak.  Had  my  life  been  placed  in  other 
circumstances,  I  might  have  been  a  shining 
light  of  orthodox  nonconformity,  and  have 
honestly  held  up  my  hands  in  virtuous  indig- 
nation at  the  wickedness  of  society.  But  I 
found  myself  where  I  was,  and  not  elsewhere, 
with  the  result  described. 

Not  only  did  the  loss  of  Bella  prey  upon 
my  mind  (for  I  knew  that  I  had  lost  her, 
though  I  am  sure  that  even  at  that  time  I 
would  have  gone  back  had  it  been  possible), 
but  the  complexity  of  my  afifairs  generally 
began   to   put  the   fear   into   me   in   a  manner 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOi:  325 

not  really  warranted  by  their  nature.  AlthougH 
all  round  I  was  in  what  Is  generally  called 
"  a  mess."  there  was  really  nothing  at  all 
desperate  about  my  circumstances,  and  had 
I  been  thrown  into  bankruptcy  I  could  have 
settled  in  full,  and  got  my  discharge  at  once. 
But  my  mind  refused  to  grasp  this  position 
firmly,  and  I  lived  in  a  state  of  continual 
dread.  Every  knock  at  the  door,  every  letter 
made  me  turn  cold  and  dizzy.  I  shunned 
my  accustomed  streets,  and  preferred  to  goi 
out  only  after  nightfall.  Some  one  also  re- 
marked that  I  walked  differently,  with  a 
want  of  certainty  in  my  steps,  all  whicH 
goes  to  show  that  I  was  in  full  career  for  a 
serious  nervous  breakdown. 

Quiet  and  cheerful  surroundings  were  the 
prescription,  and  I  was  advised  to  spend  three 
months  at  Mentone.  Above  all  things,  I 
was  to  avoid  excitement  and  worry. 

I  had  had  enough  of  such  things  for  the 
present,  and  the  first  month  or  two  of  my 
sojourn  I  obeyed  the  doctor's  orders  with 
surprising    fidelity,     I     piended    rapidly.     The 


S26  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

impression  of  Bella  began  to  fade,  and 
something  very  much  like  contempt  took  the 
place  of  my  former  feelings.  And  strangely 
with  this,  the  impression  of  Helen  grew  more 
vivid,  so  that  I  began  to  look  forward  with 
impatience  to  the  time  that  I  should  see  her 
again.  In  addition  to  this,  my  aflairs  began 
to  assume  quite  a  rosy  appearance,  and  I  found 
myself  wondering  what  I  had  been  afraid  of. 

I  heard  from  Winifred  from  time  to  time, 
and  I  looked  forward  to  receiving  these 
letters,  replying  to  them  voluminously,  a 
strange  thing  for  me,  who  had  always  detested 
letter- writing  above  all  things.  Among  the 
news  that  gave  me  most  satisfaction  was  that 
announcing  that  other  sufScient  evidence  had 
been  obtained  against  Abinger,  and  that  a 
petition  had  been  filed.  Moreover,  there  was 
no  doubt  now  that  Winifred  would  be  well 
provided  for.  By  the  unexpected  death  of 
two  persons,  Abinger  had  succeeded  to  his 
reversion,  which  was  a  considerable  fortune, 
and  therefore,  if  the  suit  were  successful, 
Winifred  would  obtain  proper  alimony. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  327 

As  time  went  on,  I  began  to  chafe  under 
the  obHgations  of  my  medical  orders,  and  I 
longed  for  a  little  excitement  of  some  sort 
Wonderfully  obedient,  I  had  not  even  allowed 
myself  to  pay  a  visit  to  Nice  or  Monte  Carlo, 
and  my  first  breach  of  regulations  was  a 
visit  to  the  opera  at  the  former  place.  I  felt 
none  the  worse,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
decidedly  the  better  for  my  change,  and  I 
thought  that  I  should  be  doing  no  great 
harm  if  I  went  one  step  further  and  paid  a 
little  visit  to  Monte  Carlo,  just  as  a  spectator. 
I  determined  to  go  in  the  evening,  as  I  should 
'^be  less  likely  to  run  up  against  anyone  I  knew. 
Although  I  was  only  going  to  look  on  I  put 
a  few  bank  notes  in  my  pocket  before  starting, 
in  case  of  accidents. 

I  arrived  at  the  principality  in  the  midst  of  a 
mild  excitement.  Some  unfortunate  gambler 
had  shot  himself  in  the  grounds,  but  had  not 
succeeded  in  doing  it  thoroughly.  This  is  a 
far  too  common  occurrence  to  create  any  great 
stir,  but  it  is  usually  accompanied  by  a  mild 
flutter  among  the  g^amblers^  and  the  tables  are 


328  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

not  quite  so  full  for  the  next  hour  after  it 
becomes  known. 

I  was  unable  to  discover  the  unfortunate 
man's  name  for  some  time,  but  at  last  a 
casual  stranger  told  me  he  had  heard  it  was 
Wynne. 

I  was  apparently  in  for  more  excitement 
than  I  had  anticipated.  I  approached  the 
atAthorities,  and,  in  face  of  great  difficulty, 
ascertained  that  it  was  indeed  my  cousin.  I 
undertook,  the  charge  of  him,  and  with  the 
assistance  of  the  doctor  got  him  back  to  my 
hotel  in  Mentone.  I  said  nothing  to  them  at 
home  of  the  affair,  and  in  time  Wynne  began  to 
pull  round.  It  was  a  close  thing  at  first,  but 
we  got  him  through. 

It  was  not  for  two  weeks  that  I  asked  him 
anything  about  himself.  I  had  noticed  his 
wild  and  dissipated  appearance,  and  I  easily 
guessed  where  my  thousand  pounds  had  gone. 
In  answer  to  his  questions,  I  merely  said  that 
I  was  staying  there  for  amusement,  and  he 
asked  no  more.  In  time  he  was  able  to  go  out, 
and  one  lovely  day,  as  we  sat  looking"  over  the 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  329 

Mediterranean — it  was  really  blue^ — I  asked 
him  how  it  came  about. 

He  leaned  his  face  on  his  hands  and  did  not 
answer  me  for  some  time. 

"  That  cursed  woman  !  "  he  said  at  length, 
more  to  himself  than  to  me. 

"  Come  Percy,"  I  said,  "  we  are  cousins. 
Perhaps  we  haven't  always  been  to  one  another 
what  we  should  have  been,  but  things  are 
different  now.  I'll  tell  you  all  about  myself 
some  time,  but  anyhow  I'll  say  at  once  I  have 
chucked  all  that  silliness  of  mine,  and — well, 
I'm  going  to  do  differently  in  future.  Now  I 
want  to  hear  about  you.  Don't  be  afraid.  I 
can  be  a  good  pal.  If  you  did  me  in  any  way, 
never  mind  ;  it  is  all  forgiven  and  forgotten,  and 
I'm  going  to  see  you  straight  again.  I  suppose 
you  have  been  fooled  by  some  woman.  IVe 
been  in  the  same  box,  so  I  know,  and  can  excuse 
any  madness.     God  knows  I  need  excuse  ! " 

I  saw  Wynne's  eyes  fill  with  tears,  and  his 
throat  was  too  lumpy  to  speak.  He  just  held 
out  his  hand  and  I  took  it.  I  left  him  alone, 
and  we  two  just  gazed  out  over  the  sea, 


330  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

"  You  remember — that — woman,"  he  said  at 
length. 

"  Bianca  ?" 

Wynne  nodded. 

"  I  married  her,"  he  continued.  "She  made 
me — you  know  what  I  mean.  I  was  an  ass, 
and  a  jealous  ass.  No,  I  was  a  blackguard,  a 
damned  scoundrel,  that's  what  I  was.  What* s 
the  good  of  mincing  matters  ?  You  shall  know 
why  directly." 

He  paused.     I  said  nothing. 

"  She  couldn't  catch  your  father  ;  she 
couldn't  catch  you.  She  caught  me,  and  then 
she  began  her  infernal  work.  She  used  every 
art,  more  than  were  known  to  Delilah  or  Lady 
Macbeth,  to  madden  me  against  you,  and  she 
succeeded  only  too  well.  I  am  not  going  to 
excuse  myself  one  bit.  When  I've  told  you, 
you  can  do  as  you  like.  I'm  too  miserable  to 
care." 

He  paused  again. 

"  I  began  by  trying  to  rum  you  on  the  Stock 
Exchange.  Of  course  I  swindled  you  over  that 
business.     I  wonder  you  did  not  guess  as  much. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  331 

Emboldened  by  success,  I  went  further.  I 
next  went  to  your  guardians  and  lied  freely 
about  you.  That  had  the  effect  of  stopping 
you  from  touching  the  estate,  and  of  getting 
you  into  difficulties.  I  also — but  I  don't  know 
— How  has  Abinger  turned  out  ?  " 

"  A  blackguard,"  I  said  with  warmth. 

"  I  persuaded  the  guardians  again  that  he  was 
an  admirable  man  in  every  way.  I  knew  very 
differently.  I — "  (a  lump  in  his  throat  checked 
his  speech)  "  in  fact,  I  did  everything  I  could 
to  injure  you.  But  without  complete  success. 
Meanwhile  she  squandered,  perhaps  we 
squandered,  what  money  I  had,  for  we  lived 
upon  hope.  But  hope  was  long  deferred.  In 
desperation  I  borrowed  that  thousand  pounds 
of  you,  and  came  over  here  to  try  to  improve 
our  fortune  at  the  tables.  We  ran  many 
risks,  but  were  not  discovered.  She  played 
decoy,  and  I  robbed  when  I  could.  You  can 
guess  how  that  can  be  done  at  those  tables 
when  rich  mugs  are  playing.  More  than  once 
we  nearly  made  a  mistake  and  only  squeezed 
out  of  it  by  a  hair's  breadth.     We  quarrelled, 


332  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

I  need  not  tell  you.  She  did  what  she  pleased, 
and  I,  for  infatuation  of  her,  accepted  the 
basest  of  positions.  We  blackmailed  several 
times  with  success,  I  playing  the  indignant 
husband,  and  she  the  frail  and  erring  wife. 
The  poor  fools  knew  only  too  well  that  I 
should  have  been  acquitted  by  an  impression- 
able jury  if  I  had  killed  them  on  the  spot. 

"  Then  one  day  by  chance  her  husband  turned 
up.  She  had  been  married  before  and  had 
got  away  from  him.  That  was  the  end. 
What  became  of  her  I  don't  know.  Mad  and 
desperate,  I  gambled  on  to  my  last  louis  and  lost. 
Then  I  tried  to  put  an  end  to  my  life,  and 
failed  again.     Now  you  know." 

I  could  say  nothing.  I  could  only  look  at 
him  in  pity,  and  grasp  his  hand.  I  felt  no 
resentment.  He  looked  at  me  with  a  kind  of 
wonder  for  a  moment,  and  then  withdrew  his 
hand. 

"  I  have  forgotten  something,"  he  said  in  a 
strange,  hard  tone.  "  I  ought  to  have  men- 
tioned it  before.  I  let  the  boom  swing  across 
on  purpose." 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  333 

"You  did  me  the  greatest  favour  you  could 
have  done,"  I  answered.  "That  was  the 
beginning  of  the  end.     Thank  you,  Percy." 

I  fancy  he  thought  I  was  mad. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

I  S'TAYED  a  month  or  two  longer  until  Percy 
was  quite  well.  I  only  wrote  home  that  I 
had  found  him  there  ill,  and  no  one  knew 
anything  more.  These  little  incidents  at 
Monte  Carlo  are  not  fully  reported. 

Before  going  home,  one  other  event 
happened  which  should  be  recorded.  I  had 
run  over  again  to  Monte  Carlo.  I  was  alone, 
as  Wynne  absolutely  refused  to  set  foot  in 
the  place  again.  As  I  strolled  along  the 
terrace,  my  attention  was  attracted  to  two 
persons,  a  gentleman  and  lady  approaching 
from  the  opposite  direction.  There  was 
something  about  the  lady  which  looked  to 
me  familiar.  On  coming  nearer  I  recognized 
Nelly.  She  was  looking  very  graceful  and 
stately  in  an  elaborate  toilette. 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  335 

The  man  with  her  I  recognized  as  Lord 
Petherick,  only  son  of  Lord  Padstow.  I  knew 
him  slightly  as  a  member  of  my  club,  and  an 
occasional  visitor  at  the  St.  John-Elliots. 

I  was  doubtful  for  a  moment  what  to  do, 
but  seeing  no  successful  means  of  escape,  I 
decided  to  walk  on.  I  was  really  curious  to 
see  what  course  Nelly  would  take.  I  expected 
she  would  cut  me,  which,  seeing  what  out 
relationship  had  been,  would  be  only  natural. 
Contrary  to  my  expectation,  she  bowled  most 
aristocratically,  and  I  raised  my  hat.  At  the 
same  moment  Petherick  saw  me,  and  greeted 
me  efifusively.  He  was  a  brainless,  but  other- 
wise harmless  young  man. 

"  Oh,  I  say.  Manners,"  he  cried,  "  let  me 
introduce  you  to  my  wife." 

I  did  not  suppose  there  was  a  man  in  the 
set  who  did  not  know  of  the  liaison  of  myself 
and  Elaine  Soyer,  and  therefore  I  concluded 
that  Petherick  was  either  very  foolish  or  very 
clever.     I  held  out  my  hand. 

"  We   have   met  before," — Nelly   frowned  a 


336  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

little, — "  upon  one  occasion,  at  Henley,  I 
think." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  remember  Mr.  Manners 
quite  well,"  answered  Lady  Petherick,  with 
completely  exquisite  assumption.  "A  most 
enjoyable  day,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

I  walked  with  them  a  little  way  until 
Petherick  went  off  to  buy  an  English  paper 
at  a  kiosk. 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  you  again,  Horace,  old 
man,"  Nelly  said.  "  We're  good  friends, 
aren't  we  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  Nelly." 

"  You  see,  I  have  justified  you,  after  all. 
We  couldn't  go  on  for  ever  as  we  were.  I  was 
awfully  sorry  about  the  breach  of  promise 
business,  but  my  manager  insisted  on  it.  He 
was  awfully  annoyed  when  you  settled  it  out  of 
court.  He  wanted  an  ad.  But  I've  caught 
my  fish.  He's  not  very  brilliant,  but  he's 
really  an  awfully  good  sort,  and  I  mean  to 
look  after  him,  and  run  as  straight  as  an  arrow 
myself.      If  I   do,   I   shall   be   Lady   Padstow 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  337 

before  long.  The  old  chap  must  be  eighty, 
if  he's  a  day.     Wish  me  luck." 

I  did,  and  I  meant  it  sincerely. 

In  a  questionable  way  I  had  undoubtedly 
done  good  to  both  Nelly  and  Petherick,  for 
I  felt  sure  she  would  make  him  an  excel- 
lent wife,  and  I  was  somehow  unable  to  feel 
ashamed  of  myself. 

I  returned  to  town  with  Wynne.  Winifred's 
divorce  came  off  quite  successfully,  for  the 
gallant  captain  declined  to  defend.  My  affairs 
had  been  straigthened  out  a  bit.  Most  of 
the  creditors  were  quite  reasonable  when 
they  knew  that  they  were  really  quite 
safe  to  get  payment  in  full.  Creditors  are 
generally  very  reasonable.  After  all  they 
are  only  men,  and  not  a  special  class, 
the  enemies  of  society,  as  one  is  apt 
to  consider  them.  The  only  one  who  de- 
clined to  budge  an  inch  was  Salmon.  He 
said  that  he  had  no  objection  to  waiting, 
only  he  wished  to  settle  with  me  personally, 
and  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  solicitors. 

In  due  time  I   came  into  my  property.      I 


338  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

had  played  sad  havoc  with  my  fortune  in 
these  ten  years,  nearly  two  hundred  thousand 
being  required  to  settle  my  liabilities.  Of 
this,  eighty  thousand  was  on  Salmon's 
account.  I  had  had  from  him  cash  less  than 
half  that  sum,  and  I  determined  to  see  if  he 
were  really  the  good  fellow  that  he  had  the 
reputation  of  being.  It  was  the  vogue  to 
say  that  Salmon  was  at  heart  a  "  good  old 
cock,"  or  some  other  slangy  phrase  which  is  a 
translation  for  bonhomie. 

I  accordingly  went  to  see  him  at  his  office. 
He  received  me  with  his  usual  cordialty, 
and  produced  the  cigars  and  champagne 
according  to  custom. 

"  I've  come  to  settle,"  I  said. 

"  Don't  trouble,  Mr.  Manners,"  he  said, 
with  bubbling  good  nature.  ''  I  never 
doubted  you  for  a  moment.  You  know  that 
I  deal  with  gentlemen,  and  gentlemen  are 
gentlemen.  I'm  only  too  delighted  to  be  able 
to  oblige  them  now  and  then.  We  are  all  in 
difficulties  at  times,  and  it  would  be  hard  if 
we  couldn't  stretch  a  hand  to  help  one  another 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  339 

at  a  pinch.  Don't  trouble  about  it  now, 
any  time  will  do  for  me." 

"  No  time  like  now,"  I  said. 

"True,  true.  Of  course,  if  you  wish,  I 
won't  stand  in  your  way,"  and  he  laughed 
boisterously  at  his  own  humour.  "  You  know 
Mr.  Manners,  I  like  to  settle  with  my  gentle- 
men themselves.  I  never  have  anything  to  do 
with  lawyers.  They  have  only  one  idea,  to 
skin  both  sides  for  their  own  benefit.  I  wanted 
to  deal  direct  with  you,  as  we  had  always 
dealt  before.  It  is  much  better,  I  think, 
don't  you  ?  It  was  very  sorry  to  learn  you 
were  ill.  You  were  really,  I  believe.  Some 
of  them  are  not,  you  know.  You  don't  sup- 
pose I  should  have  troubled  you  if  I  had 
known." 

Really  Mr.  Salmon  seemed  to  be  a  most 
kind-hearted  man,  and  his  sentiments  were 
most  creditable  to  him. 

"  Now,  look  here,  Salmon,"  I  said,  "  you're 
getting  paid  a  bit  sooner  than  you  expected. 
You  know  how  much  I've  really  had.  What 
will  you  take  down  to  settle  up  ?  " 


340  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

He  laughed  again  boisterously. 

"You're  good  at  a  joke,  Mr.  Manners, 
really  you  are.  Come,  now,  I'll  make  an  offer. 
I'll  take  eighty  thousand." 

I  did  not  laugh,  but  I  put  it  again  to  him 
seriously. 

He  did  not  laugh  either  this  time. 

"  Come  now,  my  dear  young  sir,  that's  not 
quite — quite  playing  the  game.  You  came  to 
ask  my  assistance,  and  you  made  me  what 
was  on  the  whole  a  very  fair  offer  ;  I  don't 
say  otherwise.  I  didn't  want  to  see  you  in 
difficulties,  and  I  took  the  risk.  Having  taken 
the  risk  and  pulled  it  off,  you  now  come  to 
ask  me  to  take  less  than  you  offered.  Is 
that  quite  fair  ?  It  was  in  the  nature  of  a 
bet,  and  I  have  won  the  bet.  You  would 
be  surprised  if  your  bookmaker,  whom  you 
had  landed  a  twenty  to  one  chance,  asked 
you  to  take  ten  to  one.  No,  no  young  sir, 
that's  not  the  game." 

Of  course  his  argument  and  his  analogy 
were  all  wrong,  but  it  partly  deceived  me  at 
the    moment.      Moreover,    if    there    was    one 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  341 

thing  I  dreaded  it  was  being  considered  mean, 
or  to  have  gone  back  on  my  promise. 

I  drew  the  cheque  for  eighty  thousand  and 
we  parted.  I  should  have  got  less  bonhomie^ 
but  better  business  with  a  bank. 

The  settlement  of  my  debts  had  almost 
eaten  up  my  personality,  and  little  besides 
Walcote  was  left  to  me.  However,  the  estate 
had  been  kept  in  excellent  order  and  was 
unencumbered  by  mortgages,  and  I  was  not 
badly  off,  although  not  rich.  I  determined 
to  settle  down  for  good  at  Walcote,  and  I  no 
longer  found  it  the  trouble  that  I  had  thought 
it  before.     It  was  glad  to  be  at  rest. 

It  needed  but  a  very  short  experience  of  a 
squire's  life  to  discover  one  thing,  which  was 
that  it  was  an  impossible  position  without  a 
wife. 

My  thoughts  turned  again  and  again  in 
one  direction,  towards  Helen.  But  still  J 
hesitated.  She  knew  so  much  of  my  past 
life,  in  fact  I  think  she  knew  it  all  pretty 
well,  that  I  feared  she  might  refuse  me. 
Besides,  she  had  never  exhibited  the  faintest 


342  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

sign  of  anything  more  than  a  sisterly  affection 
for  me. 

However,  at  length  I  determined  to  risk  it, 
but  first  to  broach  the  subject  to  Winifred. 
This  is  where  a  sister  comes  in  usefully. 

Winifred  was  overjoyed. 

"  Horace,"  she  said,  "  I'll  tell  you  a  secret  I 
know,  but  never  repeat  it.  Helen  has  been  in 
love  with  you  from  the  first." 

That  made  matters  easier. 

One  lovely  June  evening,  wandering  through 
the  park  at  Walcote,  I  spoke  to  Helen. 

"  You  know  all  my  past.  There  is  nothing 
hidden  from  you,  and  I  wish  to  hide  nothing. 
I  can  only  say  that  I  do  not  think  I  have 
willingly  wronged  a  living  creature.  Do  you, 
can  you,  knowing  what  you  do,  love  me  ?  " 

"  I  think,  dear,"  she  answered,  "  that  I 
love  you  all  the  more.  There  is  no  erasing 
it — indeed  the  more  one  reasons  the  more 
does  it  appear  to  be  entirely  wrong.  I  know 
that  I  ought  to  be  so  much  shocked,  so 
much  horrified  at  the  revelation  of  your 
vicious    past    (I    am    quoting   the    Pharisees), 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  343 

that  I  should  shrink  away  from  you  in  pitiful 
disgust.  My  innocence  ought  to  dread  the 
contamination  of  your  touch,  but  it  doesn't  ; 
I  don't.  Women  are  made  that  way,  and  it 
is  useless  to  argue  about  it." 

"  But,"  I  argued  in  an  ectasy  of  delight 
which  wanted  to  torture  itself  for  my  own 
happiness,  "are  you  not  afraid  that  at  some 
time  in  the  future  you  may,  even  without 
reason,  become  jealous  ?  " 

"  Jealous  ?  Of  whom  ?  Of  your  old  lovers  ? 
Of  future  lovers  ?  No,  Horace  dear,  it  may 
be  inordinate  vanity  on  my  part,  but  I  have 
the  utmost  confidence  in  my  own  influence 
and  attractiveness,  and  am  firmly  convinced 
of  my  ability,  as  far  as  you  are  concerned, 
to  knock  out  all  rivals  in  the  first  round." 

Helen  was  quite  right.  I  have  admired 
other  women  since  then.  What  man  with  an 
eye  for  beauty  would  not  ?  We  find  that 
we  generally  agree  upon  a  girl's  good  looks. 
But  I  have  never  felt  in  the  least  attracted 
towards  one.  I  do  not  hope  to  find  Helen's 
equal  this  side  of  Paradise. 


344  A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL 

There  is  little  more  to  be  said,  I  made 
Wynne  my  steward,  and  I  can  only  say  that 
the  estate  was  never  in  such  apple-pie  order 
before.  The  tenants  are  absolutely  contented. 
The  farmers  do  not  grumble  more  than  is 
their  right.  They  have  not  gone  the  length 
yet  of  making  the  landlord  responsible  for 
the  weather.  I  do  not  quarrel  with  the 
parson,  who,  as  luck  has  it,  is  about  the  only 
sensible  parson  I  ever  came  across.  He  is 
an  excellent  minister,  an  agreeable  companion 
and  a  first-rate  sportsman.  Our  young  rustics 
do  not  go  off  to  London,  but  prefer  to  stay 
where  they  are.  We  even  down  here  make 
farming  a  fairly  profitable  occupation.  I 
take  an  enormous  interest  in  the  parish  and 
county  councils,  and  am  regarded,  I  believe 
as  a  sort  of  progressive-moderate.  Helen  has 
recently  been  elected  an  alderman,  which 
makes  me  feel  small,  as  I  have  not 
yet  attained  to  that  dignity.  I  believe  she  was 
what  they  call  co-opted.  Anyhow  she  is  very 
popular. 

Within  a  year  after  the  decree  nisi  was  made 


A  BIT  OF  A  FOOL  345 

absolute,  Winifred  married  Scovell.  They 
are  very  well  off,  for  Scovell's  people  had  a 
lot  of  money.     He  is  an  M.P.  now. 

"I  believe,"  Winifred  said,  "that  I  should 
have  married  him  at  first  if  he  had  not  been 
so  fond  of  paradox.  A  girl  doesn't  like  her 
wedding  to  be  regarded  as  a  paradox." 

"  Which  it  was,"  SQ?vell  said. 

Looking  back  on  things  now,  I  do  not 
think  I  was  more  nor  better  than  the  average 
of  young  men  in  my  position.  It  is  perhaps 
not  noble  to  represent  merely  an  average,  but 
it  is  not  my  fault  that  I  was  born  a  bit  of  a 
fool. 


Th:^  end. 


A  Few  Press  Opinions  on 

The  Mist  on  the  Moors 

By  JOSEPH  HOCKING 

Small  12mOf  Clothf  Illustrated,  7S  Cents, 

Washington  Times 

By  the  addition  of  "  Mist  on  the  Moors"  to  their  catalogue,  R.  F. 
Fenno  &  Co.  have  made  a  distinct  qualitative  advancement.  It  is 
wholesome  as  well  as  diverting,  and  Dears  evidence  of  literary  skill 
to  a  finished  degree.  The  story  is  by  Joseph  Hocking,  a  reverend,  I 
believe,  who  is  also  known  as  the  author  of  "All  Men  Are  I,iars," 
and  a  good  novel  with  the  rather  more  optimistic  title,  "The  Story 
of  Andrew  Fairfax."  Mr.  Hocking  is  an  Fnglishman,  and  his  story 
is  Fnglish  in  locale  and  personnel.  The  scenes  are  laid  in  North 
Cornwall,  partly  on  the  Altarnum  Moors,  and  we  are  introduced  to 
four  or  five  characters,  typical  of  a  people  who  pass  their  lives  far 
from  the  noise  and  bustle  of  city  life,  and  who  seem  truer  and  stur- 
dier for  their  intimate  communion  with  nature. 

5an  Francisco  Bulletin 

Fascinating  indeed  is  "  The  Mist  on  the  Moors,"  a  bright  novel 
from  the  pen  of  Joseph  Hocking,  author  of  "  The  Story  of  Andrew 
Fairfax,"  and  the  stamp  of  approval  has  been  placed  on  the  work  by 
all  clever  people.  The  story  is  a  tale  of  life  in  North  Cornwall,  and 
is  fully  up  to  the  author's  brilliant  style.  Told  only  as  Hockiug  can 
tell  a  story,  and  teeming  with  clever  illustrations  by  F.  A.  Carter,  the 
success  of  "  The  Mist  on  the  Moors  "  is  already  assured. 

Hartford  Post 

"  The  Mist  on  the  Moors "  affects  to  tell  a  fresh  and  interesting 
tale  in  which  the  characters  are  the  simple  folk  who  live  far  out  from 
town,  and  who  talk  in  a  dialect  of  their  own.  The  scene  is  laid  in 
North  Cornwall,  and  the  book  is  well  illustrated.  The  author  is  Rev. 
Joseph  Hocking. 

Philadelphia  Press 

Another  novel  by  Joseph  Hocking  is  welcomed  by  those  interested 
in  healthy  fiction  that  is  free  from  the  taint  of  pessimism.  "  The 
Mist  on  the  Moors "  is  a  further  insistence  of  the  ability  of  man  to 
work  out  his  own  salvation  in  the  old-fashioned  God-iearing  way. 

Buffalo  Express 

"  The  Mist  on  the  Moors"  is  the  title  of  a  pretty  romance  of  North 
Cornwall  by  Joseph  Hocking.  It  is  the  love  story  of  a  young  Cornish 
"  gentleman  farmer "  told  in  a  plain,  straightforward  way  which  is 
very  pleasing.  The  local  flavor  of  the  book  is  strong  and  the  wild 
scenery  of  the  Cornish  ntoors  is  graphically  depicted ;  altogether  it  is 
a  vety  readable  little  novel.  The  volume  is  attractively  txnmd  aad 
printed. 


R.  P.  P1SNN0  &  COMPANY,  lis  PIftfc  Av0.,  K  Y, 


A  Few  Press  Opinions  on 

A  Little  Wia;ard 

By  STANLEY  J.  WEYMAN 

x6iiio,  Clotb,  50  Cents 
New  York  Times 

"  Mr.  Weyman  now  builds  his  romance  on  English  soil.  The  t!mt 
is  the  beginning  of  the  Puritan  uprising,  before  the  firm  establialf 
ment  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  the  personages  are  Roundhead* 
and  Cavaliers.  That  is  to  say,  the  small  boy  and  his  fugitive  brother, 
who  are  the  most  sympathetic  characters  in  the  story,  represent  the 
Royalist  class,  and  they  are  set  among  crack-brained  fanatics,  eniy' 
eling  hypocrites,  and  sturdy,  well-meaning  dissenters.  There  is  a 
strong  and  convincing  sketch  of  Cromwell  before  he  had  reached 
the  zenith  of  his  power,  which  is  quite  in  Mr.  Weyman's  best  vein. 

"  The  little  story,  which  seems  to  have  been  intended  as  a  boy»' 
book,  is  well  devised  and  the  interest  is  maintained  to  an  abrupt  and 
startling  denouement.  There  are  no  battles,  but  there  is  an  admir- 
able description  of  a  march  of  Cromwell's  troops  across  the  wet 
moors,  and  Mr.  Weyman's  strong  feeling  for  landscape  efifects, 
which  so  greatly  helps  the  interest  of  all  his  romances,  pervades  tlii3 
little  story." 

Christian  Advocate 

*'  A  new  historical  tale  by  Stanley  J.  Wejnman  is  set  in  the  time  of 
Cromwell,  just  after  the  battles  of  Marston  Moor  and  Naseby,  and 
before  the  surrender  by  the  Scots'  army  of  Charles  I.  It  is  called 
•A  I^ittle  Wizard,'  and  recites  incidents  in  the  careers  of  two 
youthful  sons  of  a  Cavalier  gentleman  who  has  sacrificed  his  life  to 
the  Royalist  cause,  and  one  of  whom— the  I,ittle  Wizard— figures 
pathetically  in  the  story,  under  the  care  of  a  faithless  family  serv- 
itor who  has  sinister  connections  with  the  Puritan  Roundhead*. 
The  story  has  much  of  the  literary  and  historic  charm  which  mark* 
all  of  Mr.  Weyman's  works,  and  it  will  find  many  interested  reader*. 
It  is  illustrated,  and  has  a  portrait  of  the  author." 


RJ5.  FENNO  &  COMPANY,  1 12  Fifth  Avenu  e.  New  Yw* 


A  Few  Press  Opinions  on 

A  Living:  Lie 

By  PAUL  BOURGEr 

12mOf  Clothf  $1.23;  JPaper  Covers,  50  cents. 


Scotsman 

Mr.  de  Vallieres'  translation  leaves  nothing  to  be  desired,  and 
deserves  the  thanks  of  English  readers  for  having  rendered  acces- 
sible to  them  a  masterpiece  of  minute  analysis  of  character  and 
feeling. 

Pall  nail  Gazette 

M.  Bourget's  celebrated  novel.  ...  It  is  good  to  find  a  transla- 
tion of  a  popular  French  novel  so  well  done  as  this  is,  and  the 
vivid  picture  of  Parisian  life  loses  nothing  of  its  force  or  truth  in 
its  English  dress. 

World 

"  Mensonges  "  is  undoubtedly  a  clever  story,  and  the  present  vet- 
sion  is  excellent. 

Vanity  Fair 

The  book  itself  is  an  education :  the  very  greatest  novel  of  analy* 
sis  and  character  France  has  produced  since  Balzac. 

New  York  Commercial  Advertiser 

"  A  lyiving  I^ie,"  published  in  this  country  by  Fenno,  is  one  of 
the  earlier  works  of  Paul  Burget,  and  one  that  shows  both  the 
weakness  and  strength  of  his  methods.  In  an  introduction  written 
to  the  transtlation,  the  author  speaks  of  his  humble  decipleship  of 
Flaubert  and  Zola,  ard  perhaps  none  of  Bourget's  novels  better 
than  this  recent  translation  will  show  better  how  closely  the  stu- 
dent has  followed  the  masters,  especially  the  former.  But  one 
man  could  write  "Madame  Borany,"  and  that  was  Flaubert,  but 
there  are  portions  of  '•  Mensonges  "  that  would  lead  one  to  believe 
that  M.  Bourget  +hought  that  he  might  have  written  it  himself. 
Madame  Borany'a-  meeting  with  her  lover  in  a  house  of  ill-fame 
and  Rene's  meetings  with  his  mistress  might  even  seem  to  some 
as  an  illustration  of  where  the  pupil  had  learned  his  lesson  too 
well. 

As  for  the  story  itself  there  is  no  need  of  rehearsing  that.  It  is 
strong,  and  viewed  from  the  point  of  fiction  is  good.  But  since  M. 
Bourget  aspires  to  be  something  more  than  novelist,  to  be  an  an- 
alysist,  a  psychologist  and  feminologist,  it  would  be  wrong  to  ig- 
nore what  he  considers  his  best  labor.  Perhaps  it  would  not  be 
malapropos  to  q^uote,  in  relation  to  M.  Bourget's  study  of  women 
and  women's  mind,  what  Nietzsche  has  written,  that  we  are  puz- 
zled when  we  try  to  probe  women's  mind,  not  because  it  is  so  deep, 
not  because  it  has  no  bottom— "it  is  not  even  shallow."  Which  is 
basely  cynical,  and  anyway  it  was  written  by  a  man  who  is 
now  in  a  mad  house.  But,  nevertheless,  it  is  a  good  sentence  to 
bear  in  mind  when  one  is  reading  the  works  of  a  feminologist. 
There  is  no  doubt  of  M.  Bourget's  intuitive  powers.  True,  that 
too  frequently  does  he  afiirm  with  unbecoming  and  exultant  de- 
K^ht  and  misplaced  passion  that  two  and  two  are  four,  but  often 
this  leads  to  the  higher  and  more  complicated  problems,  such  as 
four  and  four  are  eight.  Surely  M.  Bourget  is  an  analyst,  but  he 
^ends  too  much  time  analyzing  very  obvious  brick  walls. 

But,  "  A  I,iving  l,ie  "  is  good  fiction,  if  it  is  not  good  literature. 
It  is  well  translated.  

R.  F.  FENNO  &  COMPANY,  112  Fifth  Ave.,  N.  Y. 


A  Few  Press  Opinions  on 

Robert  Urquhart 

By  GABRIEL  SETOUN 

12niOi  Cloth,  Illustrated,  $1.00;  Paper  Covers,  ao  Cents 


The  Outlook 

"  Robert  Urquhart,"  by  Gabriel  Setoun,  is  a  Scotch  story  possess- 
ing a  certain  degree  of  strength.  Courageous  indeed  is  the  writer 
to-day  who  brings  his  work  in  contrast  with  that  of  Ian  Maclare*. 
Crockett,  and  J.  M.  Barrie.  Comparison  between  these  masters  and 
the  lesser  lights  there  cannot  be. 

Toledo  Blade 

In  "Robert  Urquhart,"  by  Gabriel  Setoun,  the  lovers  of  Scotch 
stories  will  experience  a  delight  the  same  as  felt  in  the  reading  of 
"The  I/ilac  Sunbonnet,"  "Beside  the  Bonnie  Brier  Bush,"  "The 
I^ittle  Minister,"  and  other  novels  and  tales  in  which  are  found 
tender  pathos,  delicate  humor  and  a  dramatic  construction.  The 
character  of  old  Rob  cannot  fail  to  impress  all  readers,  winning 
their  love  by  his  simple  kindness  ;  while  the  schoolmaster's  sturdy 
manliness  calls  forth  feeling  of  liking  and  respect,  with  a  desire 
that  he  shall  gain  hi»  heart's  wish.  The  story  is  well  worth  a 
reading. 

5unday  Times 

£,overs  of  a  good  story,  which  is  at  the  same  time  good  literature, 
and  especially  lovers  of  the  Scotch  atmosphere  and  temperament, 
will  enjoy  "  Robert  Urquhart."  This  is  a  new  book  by  Gabriel 
Setoun,  published  by  R,  F.  Fenno  &  Company.  The  central  char- 
acter is  a  school  teacher,  not  the  periwig  old  goose  who  has  so  long 
been  strutting,  conventional  to  a  hair  through  Scotch  stories,  but  a 
mian  of  head  and  heart  endowments  which  appeal  to  the  head  and 
the  heart  for  our  belief,  sympathy  and  love.  If  Mr.  Setoun  had  not 
the  originality  to  lead  the  way,  he  has  at  least  the  genius  to  follow 
with  highest  credit  in  the  paths  of  Barrie,  Maclaren  and  Crockett, 
and  who  will  say  it  is  not  as  hard  to  follow  creditably  in  beaten 
paths  as  to  charm  public  fancy  with  a  trifle  when  it  is  new  ? 

Times-Union 

"  Robert  Urquhart."  This  is  an  entertaining  novel,  well  wrltt«i, 
with  a  good  plot  and  with  many  of  the  essentials  of  a  book  of  the 
highest  character.  Its  pretty  binding  should  also  be  mentioned,  and 
in  this  it  suggests  itself  as  a  present  to  a  friend.  Its  author  is  Gabriel 
Setoun.  It  is  a  Scotch  tale.  Its  pathos  is  as  sweet,  its  humor  as  deli- 
cate, its  construction  as  dramatic  and  its  characters  as  lovable  as  any 
to  be  found  in  the  other  Scottish  stories  which  have  caught  th«  fancy. 

Kansas  City  Journal 

An  American  edition  of  "  Robert  Urquhart "  will  attract  the  atton* 
tlon  of  many  thousands  who  have  read  and  enjoyed  "  The  Wlac  Sun- 
bonnet  "  "A  Galloway  Herd,"  "  Beside  the  Bonnie  Brier  Bush,"  and 
\  "  The  I^lttle  Minister  "  and  they  will  find  within  its  covers  a  pathos 

I  as  sweet,  a  humor  as  delicate,  a  construction  as  dramatic,  ana  char- 

[y  acters  aa  lovable  as  are  to  be  found  in  any  of  the  above-mezitlo«ed 

works. 


R.  P.  FEKNO  &  COMPANY,    112  Fifth  ATeaue,  K.  Y. 


A  Few  Press  Opinions  on 

The  Unclassed 

By  GEORGE  GISSESTG 

Wm*  QktOk,  Illustrated,  $1.25;  Paper  Covers,  SO  CmxtB 


@«tlook 

It  shows  remarkable  powers  of  observation  and  realistic 
reproduction  of  certain  phases  of  life.  It  deals  with  the 
life  of  the  **  unclassed  "  very  bluntly,  and  with  unneces- 
sary detail,  but  there  is  no  intention  to  pervert  morals. 

Boston  Post 

The  story  is  full  of  strong  and  telling  situations,  a 
story  in  which  the  realism  often  impinges  closely  upon 
the  ideal.  In  many  places  the  book  is  absorbing  in  its 
interest. 

N.  Y.  Advertiser 

It  is  a  story  of  the  struggling  ones,  struggling  against 
and  for  class  distinction  ;  struggling  to  keep  from  going 
down  into  the  *'  lowest  class  ;  "  struggling  to  reach  the 
class  where  bread  and  butter  are  not  the  only  living 
cries. 

Buffalo  Commercial 

Mr.  Gissing  has  secured  a  place  in  the  front  rank  of 
the  best  English  novelists,  and  any  story  of  which  he  is 
the  author  will  be  widely  and  eagerly  read,  **  The  Un- 
classed "  is  a  thrilling,  intensely  dramatic  story. 

fleadville  Stylus 

Ida  Starr  is  a  child  of  ten  years  when  the  story  opens. 
It  closes  with  her  marriage.  We  are  i)ermittea  to  ob- 
serve her  character  in  all  the  stages  of  its  development 
from  a  childhood  all  love  and  gentleness,  through  a 
jolitary  and  defenseless  girlhood  spent  in  a  desperate 
struggle  against  the  poverty  that  ends  in  starvation, 
through  her  temptation,  her  fall,  and  her  redemption 
through  love.  There  are,  curiously  enough,  no  traces 
of  the  influence  of  the  naturalistics  chool  in  Mr.  Gis- 
sing's  work.  The  entire  story  is  planned  and  wrought 
out  with  the  greatest  imaginable  delicacy. 


it.  P.  FBNNO  &  COMPANY,  112  Rfth  Ayc,  M.  T. 


